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Manning,  Jacob  M .  1824 
Sermons  and  addresses 


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SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES 


BY 


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Rev.  JACOB  MERRILL  MANNING,  D.  D. 

f  ASTOR  OF   THE  OLD  SOUTH  CHURCH,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


BOSTON    AND   NEW    YORK 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN   AND   COMPANY 

etc  niuetjSiiDe  ^9  its?,  ^ambciDge 


Copyright,  1889, 
By  anna  BERWICK  MANNING. 


All  rights  reserved. 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambrids^e,  Mass.,U.  S.  A. 
Electrotjped  and  Printed  by  H.  0.  Houghton  &  Co. 


PEEFACE. 


These  Sermons  and  Addresses  are  published  at  the 
earnest  request  of  the  many  friends  and  parishioners 
of  Dr.  Manning.  He  himself  intended  to  prepare 
such  a  volume  as  a  gift  to  the  Old  South  people  upon 
the  twenty-fifth  anniversary  of  his  settlement  as  their 
pastor.  We  cannot  but  regret  that  his  illness  and 
death  prevented  the  fulfillment  of  this  purpose,  as 
we  realize  with  how  much  more  justice  to  himself  and 
satisfaction  to  his  people  his  own  selection  would  have 
been  made.  These  Sermons  have  commended  them- 
selves because  of  their  rich  Christian  experience,  and 
the  range  of  subjects  presented. 

They  are  sent  forth  in  the  earnest  hope  that  the 
truth  as  presented  in  them  may  find  a  response  in 
many  hearts,  and  thus  prolong  his  influence  and  mem- 
ory in  the  world. 

ANNA    B.    MANNING. 
Boston,  October,  1889. 


BIOGEAPHICAL  NOTE. 


Jacob  Meerill  Manning  was  born  on  the  31st  of 
December,  1824,  in  Greenwood,  Steuben  County,  New 
York.  To  a  pious  ancestry,  a  Christian  home,  and 
communion  with  nature,  he  was  largely  indebted  for 
what  he  was  and  what  he  did  in  his  life-work.  He 
fitted  for  college  at  Franklin  Academy,  Prattsburg, 
New  York.  There  he  made  a  public  profession  of 
religion,  uniting  with  the  Presbyterian  Church  and 
consecrating  himself  to  the  work  of  the  gospel  minis- 
try. He  entered  Amherst  CoUege  in  1846,  and  was 
graduated  in  1850,  receiving  as  his  appointment  the 
Philosopliical  Oration.  The  subject  of  his  oration  at 
Commencement  was  "  Knowledge  in  its  Eelation  to 
Mental  Development." 

One  of  his  professors,^  who  stiU  lives,  says  of  him 
at  that  time :  "  He  was  manly,  thoughtfid,  earnest,  and 
sincere,  —  a  hard  student,  a  thorough  scholar,  an  ele- 
gant writer,  a  good  speaker,  and  an  exemplary  Chris- 
tian. Made  originally  of  precious  metal,  cast  in  a 
fine  mould,  he  took  on  a  finer  polish  at  each  successive 
stage  of  his  education." 

He  studied  theology  at  Andover,  and  was  ordained 

1  Professor  William  S.  Tyler,  D.D. 


VI  BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE. 

and  installed  (January,  1854)  pastor  of  the  Mystic 
Congregational  Church,  Medford,  Mass.  The  same 
year  he  was  married. 

In  1857  he  was  called  to  be  associate  pastor  with 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Blagden  at  the  Old  South  Church, 
Boston.  He  was  installed  March  11,  1857.  To  this 
church  and  people  he  ministered  twenty-five  years, 
with  all  the  devotion  and  fidelity  which  God  had 
given  him. 

In  1862,  when  onr  country  was  in  peril,  he  offered 
his  services,  and  was  appointed  chaplain  of  the  Forty- 
third  Regiment  of  Massachusetts  Volunteers.  Just  as 
his  term  of  service  was  closing  he  was  stricken  with 
malarial  fever,  and  brought  home  to  suffer  many 
months  upon  a  sick-bed.  From  the  effects  of  that  ill- 
ness he  never  fully  recovered,  though  he  was  spared 
many  years  and  permitted  during  that  time  to  accom- 
plish the  main  work  of  his  life. 

In  March,  1882,  he  retired  from  active  service. 

He  died  on  the  morning  of  November  29th  of  the 
same  year. 

"  Go  up  and  on !  thy  day  well  done, 
Its  morning  promise  well  fulfilled  ; 
Arise  to  triumphs  yet  unwon, 
To  holier  tasks  that  God  has  willed. 

*'  Go  leave  behind  thee  all  that  mars 
The  work  below  of  man  for  man ; 
With  the  white  le^fions  of  the  stars 
Do  service  such  as  angels  can." 


CONTENTS. 


SERMONS. 

PAGE 

The  Immortality  of  the  Cross 1 

Sons  of  God  through  Christ 19 

The  Structure  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans     .        .  34 

The  Suffering  Saviour 49 

A  Law  of  Progress 66 

The  Witness  of  Unbelief 78 

"Worship  as  a  Means  of  Spiritual  Culture    ...  98 
New-born  Souls  the  Glory  of  the  Church       .        .        .113 

Obeying  the  Heavenly  Vision 124 

Holy  Men  the  World's  Great  Hope 137 

Conscience 148 

The  Beginning  and  End  of  Sin 162 

The  Valley  of  Vision 174 

How  One's  Thinking  is  Himself 186 

The  Ideal  Life 198 

Seeing  the  King  in  the  Far-off  Land       .        .        .        .  21i- 

Christian  Character  its  own  Vindication      .        .        .  225 

The  Limits  of  Christian  Liberty 237 

The  Spirit  of  Christ 249 

Preachers,  and  what  they  should  preach       .        .        .  262 

Religious  Creeds 275 

The  Blessedness  of  Living 285 

Theory  and  Practice  in  Religion 297 

Manliness 308 

Turning  Death  into  Life 318 

The  Prayers  of  the  Saints 329 

The  Story  of  Naaman,  and  its  Lesson    ....  340  " 

Completed  Lives 356 

The  Privilege  of  Suffering 369 

We  all  do  fade  as  a  Leaf 381 


viii  CONTENTS. 

Sickness  and  its  Lessons 395 

The  Abundant  Entrance 412 

The  Victory  over  Death 425 

The  Gospel  of  the  Windows 438 

The  Natural  and  the  Spiritual  Body    ....  450 

Christian  Missions  and  the  Social  Ideal  ....  463 


ADDRESSES. 

Samuel  Adams 483 

John  Brown 508 

Eulogy  upon  Henry  Wilson,  delivered   in  the  State 

House,  Boston 532 


SERMONS. 


THE  IMMORTALITY   OF  THE  CROSS. 

And  I  beheld,  and  I  heard  the  voice  of  many  angels  round  about 
the  throne  and  the  beasts  and  the  elders  :  and  the  number  of  them 
■was  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand,  and  thousands  of  thousands ; 
saying  with  a  loud  voice,  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain  to  re- 
ceive power,  and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and  strength,  and  honor,  and 
glory,  and  blessing.  —  Revelation  v.  11,  12. 

One  of  the  symbols  of  Christianity  is  a  globe  sur- 
mounted by  a  cross.  That  symbol  does  not  exag- 
gerate the  truth  it  seeks  to  honor.  The  cross  is  the 
great  fact  in  human  history.  It  will  yet  be  seen  to 
overshadow  all  other  facts,  will  survive  them  all,  will 
be  an  object  of  ever-growing  wonder  when  they  all  are 
forgotten.  Human  history  will  run  its  course,  will  be 
finished  up,  will  be  laid  aside  to  decay  and  disappear. 
The  very  traces  of  events  shall  be  worn  away  from 
the  world's  surface.  There  shall  be  no  vestiges  of 
kingdoms,  of  states,  of  hierarchies,  left  on  the  face  of 
the  earth.  Only  the  cross  shall  remain.  That  shall 
be  monumental  over  the  grave  of  all  else.  That  shall 
forever  be  growing  more  conspicuous  on  into  the  ages 
of  ages.  It  shall  keep  the  memory  of  our  planet 
fresh  and  dear  through  eternity.  The  redeemed  souls 
dwelling  in  immortality  and  the  angels  out  of  the 
seventh  heaven  will  ask  after  that  cross,  will  speak  of 
its  wondrous  virtues,  will  watch  with  tender  interest 


2  SERMONS. 

the  motions  and  phases  of  the  far-off  ball  on  which  it 
was  lifted  up  that  all  men  might  be  drawn  unto  it. 
That  ball  will  be  to  them  the  place  of  the  cross,  and 
nothing  more.  It  will  be  nothing  to  the  holy  im- 
mortals that  great  empires  were  founded  on  the  earth  ; 
that  it  was  the  theatre  of  civil  convulsions  and  blood- 
shed ;  that  upon  it  were  builded  mighty  churches  for 
the  glory  of  men ;  that  it  witnessed  gorgeous  ceremoni- 
als, from  which  the  cross  was  left  out,  or  under  which 
it  was  concealed  from  view ;  that  systems  of  doctrine, 
constructed  in  the  pride  of  human  intellect,  have 
fought  for  the  mastery  on  its  surface :  all  these  things, 
filling  so  large  a  space  in  our  sphere  of  vision  now, 
will  be  nothing  then.  For  aught  they  could  do  to 
prevent,  this  earth  might  sail  on  everlastingly,  un- 
noticed by  the  bright  inhabitants  of  heaven.  The 
cross  —  the  cross  alone  —  saves  the  little  planet  from 
oblivion,  causes  every  saint  and  angel  to  ask  after  it, 
to  gaze  wonderingly  upon  it,  to  regard  with  peculiar 
interest  those  of  their  number  who  came  from  it.  It 
is  the  altar-world,  to  which  the  Son  of  God  went  to 
lay  down  His  life  and  take  it  again.  They  look  upon 
it,  and  their  hearts  are  melted.  They  take  their 
crowns  from  their  heads,  and  turn  toward  Him  who 
sitteth  on  the  throne,  —  Him  who  was  then  the  victim, 
but  who  is  now  the  King.  And  they  cast  those  crowns 
at  His  feet,  saying,  "  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was 
slain  to  receive  power,  and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and 
strength,  and  honor,  and  glory,  and  blessing." 

In  saying  that  the  cross  is  that  alone  which  will 
perpetuate  the  memory  of  our  world,  I  do  not  speak 
simply  of  the  wood  on  which  our  Saviour  was  crucified, 
but  of  the  whole  redomptive  work  of  which  that  cruel 
wood  is  suggestive.      Christ's  whole  work,  from  the 


THE   IMMORTALITY   OF   THE    CROSS.  6 

time  of  leaving  His  throne  until  He  returned  to  it,  is 
that  which  calls  forth  the  adoring  song  of  the  host  in 
heaven :  His  putting  off  the  forms  of  divinity,  and 
entering  into  the  form  of  hiunanity  ;  His  corporate 
union  with  our  race,  so  as  to  be  a  partaker  of  our  in- 
firmities and  temptations  and  sorrows  and  struggles  ; 
His  beautiful  life  of  meekness  and  charity  ;  His  pure 
teachings,  and  His  holy  submission  culminating  in 
Gethsemane  and  Calvary ;  His  triumph  over  death  ; 
His  fulfilling  of  justice ;  His  power,  purchased  by 
His  sufferings,  to  give  the  quickening  and  sanctifying 
Spirit  unto  His  people.  When  we  speak  of  the  cross, 
we  mean  Him  who  bore  the  cross  —  who  took  away 
the  sin  of  the  world ;  Avho  prevailed  to  open  the 
seven-times  sealed  book  of  redemption  ;  who  here,  on 
this  earth  of  ours,  solved  the  mystery  of  forgiveness ; 
who  explained  that  dark  problem  at  which  the  uni- 
verse stood  aghast,  and  showed,  to  principalities  and 
powers  in  heavenly  places,  how  sinful  man  might  be 
just  mth  God.  It  was  on  our  globe  that  Christ  took 
up  the  awful  enigma  of  sin,  made  atonement  for  it, 
wrought  deliverance  from  it,  and  taught  the  wonder- 
ing host  of  heaven  how  it  could  be  an  occasion  for 
exalting  the  divine  glory.  This  redeeming  and  law- 
honoring  work,  all  associated  with  the  cross,  is  that 
which  shall  perpetuate  the  memory  of  our  world,  and 
make  it  forever  dear  to  the  assembled  worshipers  in 
heaven. 

Do  I  seem  to  over-estimate  the  history  of  redemp- 
tion, and  to  disparage  all  other  history  ?  Let  us  see, 
then,  how  inevitable  it  is  that  the  result  should  be 
as  I  have  indicated.  The  memorableness  of  an  event 
does  not  depend  on  its  greatness  as  seen  when  it 
occurs,  but  on  its  relation  to  the  future.     Some  of  the 


4  SERMONS. 

most  splendid  scenes  in  history  are  forgotten  almost  as 
soon  as  witnessed,  all  their  meaning  being  limited  to 
the  passing  hour  ;  and  other  scenes,  too  obscure  to  be 
noticed  while  passing,  have  so  taken  hold  of  coming 
ages  as  to  wax  great  and  overshadowing  in  the  retro- 
spect. There  was  a  time  when  the  boy  Shakespeare 
excited  but  little  interest  in  his  native  town  ;  but  he 
so  wrote  as  to  make  the  ages  his  debtors.  And  now 
his  name  saves  that  town  from  oblivion.  Who  would 
visit  Stratford-upon-Avon,  or  regard  it  with  any  ro- 
mantic interest,  but  for  the  poet  who  there  wrought  in 
obscurity  for  the  delight  of  mankind  ?  In  like  man- 
ner, what  is  this  globe  but  for  the  great  Name  asso- 
ciated with  it  ?  A  time  is  coming  when  it  will  be  lost 
in  the  wilderness  of  worlds.  Who  in  heaven  will  value 
or  remember  it  on  its  own  account  ?  But  Christ  was 
born  there.  There  He  did  a  work  which  took  hold 
upon  all  the  future,  —  whose  meaning  stands  out  more 
and  more  as  eternity  wears  on.  That  is  the  poor 
earth's  monument;  that  saves  it  from  being  forgot- 
ten, and  makes  it  evermore  an  object  of  tender  regard. 
Other  names  besides  that  of  Shakespeare  have  made 
other  places  dear  or  memorable  by  the  same  law. 
How  many  of  us  would  know,  or  care  to  know,  that 
there  is  such  a  place  as  Ayrshire,  but  for  the  poetry 
of  Robert  Burns  ?  Florence,  the  native  city  of  Dante, 
though  she  banished  him  while  he  lived,  begged  his 
ashes  of  Ravenna,  that  she  might  encircle  herself  with 
the  halo  of  his  immortal  fame.  What  should  we  of 
to-day  care  for  the  English  hamlet  of  Bedford  if  John 
Bunyan  had  not  lived  there  ?  How  many  proud 
noblemen  of  that  time,  who  knew  not  his  name,  are 
now  forgotten  !  They  were  like  mighty  ships  left  to 
rot  by  the  shore  ;  he  launched  his  boat  on  the  bound- 


THE  IMMORTALITY  OF   THE  CROSS.  5 

less  sea  of  the  future.  They  built  great  houses  on  the 
sand  ;  his  foundation  was  upon  a  rock.  What  is  left 
of  Genoa,  that  we  care  for,  save  the  memory  of  Co- 
lumbus ?  What  of  Mt.  Vernon,  except  the  tomb  of 
Washington  ?  There  are  many  rocks  along  the  coast 
of  New  England,  but  only  one  on  which  the  Pilgrims 
landed.  There  have  been,  and  still  are,  whole  forests 
of  oaks  in  Connecticut ;  but  only  one  saved  the  royal 
charter  from  violence.  Many  eminences  higher  than 
Bunker  Hill  are  not  known  ten  miles  away  ;  yet  that 
eminence  is  known  wherever  liberty  is  loved.  Many 
battles,  greater  than  the  battle  there  fought,  have 
been  fought  and  forgotten  ;  but  that  will  ever  be  re- 
membered. It  took  hold  upon  the  future.  It  was 
not  of  transient  but  of  permanent  interest,  —  all 
struggles  of  freedom  do  but  repeat  and  prolong  its 
voice.  How  many  places  in  our  country,  that  we  had 
not  heard  of  twenty  years  ago,  are  now  named  as 
familiar  household  words !  And  those  obscure  spots 
will  be  remembered,  and  eagerly  inquired  after,  when 
many  a  proud  city  of  to-day  has  perished  and  been 
forgotten.  The  deeds  done  in  those  once  unloiown 
localities  ^vill  make  them  dearer  and  dearer  to  suc- 
cessive generations. 

But  even  the  most  memorable  places  now  named, 
once  so  little  regarded,  wall  in  time  lose  their  signifi- 
cancy.  There  is  a  future  into  which  even  their  mean- 
ing does  not  reach.  They  reveal  to  us  a  law  that  is 
full  of  instruction ;  yet,  by  the  operation  of  that  very 
law,  the  dead  past  will  one  day  bury  them  with  its 
other  dead.  They  will  cease  to  have  any  living  inter- 
est, any  vital  relation  to  present  and  future  things, 
and  hence  the  great  storehouse  of  oblivion  will  claim 
them.     They  have  a  mystic  hold  upon  us  now  ;  but 


b  SERMONS. 

their  spell  will  be  broken,  their  charm  will  be  gone, 
when  we  step  out  of  time  into  eternity.  If  there  be 
any  immortal  substance  in  any  of  them,  that  essence 
will  be  only  a  part  of  the  work  which  Christ  did,  and 
hence  His  cross  will  absorb  or  overshadow  all.  That 
peculiar  charm  which  Plymouth  has  for  us  now,  — 
that  mystic  cord  which  draws  us  toward  ancient 
battlefields,  and  to  the  quiet  spots  where  sages  and 
poets  have  dwelt,  —  though  lasting  as  time,  is,  after 
all,  but  temporal.  There  is  only  one  spot  on  all  the 
earth  that  can  never  lose  its  interest.  It  is  Calvary. 
That  hallows,  not  only  Palestine,  but  the  world,  —  em- 
balms it  forevermore.  There  comes  a  day  when  the 
spot  where  Warren  fell  will  have  no  more  interest 
than  ten  thousand  other  forgotten  places  ;  a  time  when 
those  sympathies  and  tastes  which  now  give  the 
birthplace  of  Shakespeare  its  charm  will  be  no  more ; 
when  a  thousand  spots  of  earth,  now  the  Meccas  of 
our  hearts,  will  have  been  disenchanted ;  when  all  the 
earth,  save  as  hallowed  by  the  one  fact  of  redemption, 
wiU  be  commonj)lace  and  stale.  It  is  a  grand  con- 
summation into  which  the  people  of  this  country  have 
come  uj)  out  of  a  baptism  of  blood,  so  changing 
their  supreme  and  organic  law  as  to  be  indeed  and 
forever  free.  Yet  this  event,  consecrating  the  century 
in  which  we  live,  endearing  to  us  every  name  recorded 
in  its  favor,  though  so  august  now,  is  circumscribed 
in  its  power.  There  is  a  life  into  which  its  pecu- 
liar charm  cannot  reach  ;  there  are  worlds  on  whose 
regard  it  lays  no  special  claim.  Christ  alone  did  tlie 
work  which  concerns  every  being  in  the  universe ;  the 
work  which  never  decays,  which  never  becomes  a 
thing  of  the  past ;  which  excites  new  wonder,  and 
calls  forth  loftier  notes  of  praise,  as  the  ages  of  ages 


THE  IMMORTALITY  OF   THE   CROSS.  7 

circle  on.  That  wondrous  humiliation  and  death 
stand  related  to  all  worlds,  and  to  all  the  cycles  of  an 
eternal  future.  The  mightiest  personage  on  earth, 
comparing  himself  with  Christ,  is  still  forced  to  say, 
"  He  must  increase,  but  I  must  decrease."  When 
temporal  Idngs  have  vanished  into  the  past,  and  are 
no  more  remembered,  the  song  shall  go  up  in  a  sweeter 
and  grander  strain,  "  Worthy  the  Lamb."  Other  em- 
pires will  cease  to  be  of  any  account ;  but  ''  His  king- 
dom is  an  everlasting  kingdom,  and  of  His  govern- 
ment there  shall  be  no  end."  "  Of  old  hast  thou  laid 
the  foundation  of  the  earth ;  and  the  heavens  are  the 
work  of  thy  hands.  They  shall  perish,  but  thou  shalt 
endure  ;  yea,  all  of  them  shall  wax  old  hke  a  gar- 
ment ;  as  a  vesture  shalt  thou  change  them,  and  they 
shall  be  changed:  but  thou  art  the  same,  and  thy 
years  shall  have  no  end."  Only  one  interest  in  the 
universe  can  be  eternal.  It  is  the  great  work  of  love, 
whose  symbol  is  a  cross,  and  wliich  is  forever  asso- 
ciated with  Calvary.  Love  in  the  form  of  self-sacri- 
fice, going  after  the  lost,  working  out  redemption  from 
guilt,  triumphing  over  the  dark  fact  of  sin,  — this  is 
the  everlasting  kingdom,  beginning  in  Christ,  com- 
passing all  the  worlds,  and  upon  wliich  He  is  ever- 
more enthroned. 

Such  is  the  destiny  of  Christ's  work.  Only  so 
much  of  it  as  is  part  and  parcel  of  Christ's  work,  and 
over  which  the  cross  might  be  fitly  lifted,  as  it  is  over 
His,  can  thus  endure.  Whatever  is  not  identified  with 
His  great  salvation  must  perish  when  the  fashion  of 
the  world  passeth  away. 

We  read  of  the  works  of  some  men,  that  the  fire 
shall  try  them,  and  that  their  works  shall  be  burned 
up.     Not  so  of  Christ.     He  builded  with  silver,  and 


8  SERMONS. 

gold,  and  precious  stones  ;  and  his  work,  when  the  fire 
trieth  it,  shall  be  found  unto  praise,  and  glory,  and 
eternal  life.  Are  we  building  with  the  same  imperish- 
able materials  ?  All  is  hay,  wood,  and  stubble  which 
is  not  a  continuation  of  the  Redeemer's  work.  We 
must  have  the  mind  that  was  in  Christ,  and  live  as 
He  lived,  or  all  our  living  will  be  transitory,  —  chaff 
which  the  wind  driveth  away.  We  must  follow  in 
His  footsteps,  and  associate  all  the  experiences  of  our 
lives  with  the  cross.  Then  the  cross  will  preserve 
our  works,  —  will  make  them  as  enduring  and  glori- 
ous as  itself. 

We  shall  not  do  this  imperishable  work  by  culti- 
vating simply  a  sentimental  respect  for  the  form  of 
the  cross.  Nothing  can  be  more  refined  or  beautiful 
than  a  sincere  Christian  life  ;  yet  Christianity  should 
not  be  confounded  with  fine  art.  Christ  showed  but 
small  regard  for  the  ancient  temple  adorned  with 
goodly  stones.  His  manner  of  speaking  of  it  greatly 
shocked  the  feelings  of  the  devout  Jews.  The  im- 
mortal soul  was  that  for  which  He  cared.  We  shall 
lose  His  spirit,  and  become  Jews  while  bearing  the 
Christian  name,  if  the  aesthetic  element  in  our  faith 
is  allowed  to  sway  us.  Taking  up  the  cross,  and  bear- 
ing it  daily  after  Christ,  is  not  wearing  it  as  an  or- 
nament to  our  persons;  is  not  lifting  its  carved  or 
gilded  image  over  our  houses  of  worship  ;  is  not  rear- 
ing vast  cathedrals  on  cruciform  foundations  ;  is  not 
covering  the  walls  and  windows  of  the  sanctuary  with 
blazing  pictures  of  our  Lord's  passion.  We  cease 
working  the  works  of  God,  and  do  the  work  of  our 
own  vain  hearts,  when  we  thus  turn  from  spirit  to 
matter,  from  substance  to  form,  from  sense  to  sound, 
from  downright  obedience  to  daintily  cultivating  the 


THE  IMMORTALITY  OF   THE   CROSS.  9 

fine  arts.  Christianity  is  not  fancy  and  taste.  Hon- 
oring the  cross  is  not  pleasing  ourselves.  You  may 
bring  to  your  aid  the  genius  of  a  Canova,  a  Raphael, 
a  Mendelssohn,  a  Garrick ;  may  bestow  never  so  much 
wealth  and  pains  to  meet  the  wants  of  mere  taste  ; 
may  make  your  whole  religious  life  one  beautiful 
and  costly  pageant;  but  all  this  work  will  vanish 
away,  like  some  gorgeous  cloud-palace,  the  moment  a 
beam  out  of  eternity  touches  it.  It  is  worshiping 
the  achievements  of  human  art,  not  worshiping  the 
Father  in  spirit  and  in  truth.  It  is  a  kind  of  sacri- 
lege. It  is  turning  the  forms  of  Christianity  into  an 
amusement,  putting  them  on  a  level  with  the  concert- 
hall  and  the  playhouse.  It  may  be  all  very  fasci- 
nating ;  it  may  be  a  charming  substitute  for  hard 
thinking  in  the  pulpit,  and  hard  listening  in  the  pews ; 
it  may  have  on  the  guise  of  devotion,  and  call  itself 
after  many  sacred  names.  But  it  is  of  the  earth, 
earthy.  It  is  all  seen  and  temporal.  The  element  of 
eternity  does  not  come  into  it.  It  is  no  part  of  the 
cross  of  Christ.  It  will  perish  amid  the  elements 
that  melt  with  fervent  heat,  in  the  day  when  the  fire 
shall  try  every  man's  work.  Not  one  echo  of  aU  the 
earth-born  strain  wiU  live  in  that  song  which  goeth 
up  before  the  Lamb. 

But  while  guarding  against  one  extreme,  I  would 
not  forget  its  opposite.  If  those  who  make  religion 
a  fine  art  forsake  the  Cross  of  Christ,  those  who  are 
forever  battling  against  tasteful  forms  of  worship 
commit  the  same  sin,  and  render  themselves  very 
unamiable  besides.  Union  and  communion  in  good 
works  is  the  normal  condition  of  the  various  bodies 
of  Christians.  Not  devotion  to  their  common  Lord, 
but  their  own  lusts,  beget  wars  and  fightings  among 


10  SERMONS. 

them.  The  surest  way  of  honoring  a  truth  is  to  hold 
it  up  and  exemplify  it,  not  to  fight  the  opposite  errors. 
When  Moses  would  save  his  people  from  the  flying 
fiery  serpents,  he  did  not  turn  serpent-killer,  but  lifted 
up  the  brazen  serpent.  Thus  is  Christ  lifted  up  ;  and 
if  we  keep  Him  in  full  view  of  men,  not  embroiling 
the  Lord's  house  with  religious  controversy,  He  will 
draw  all  men  unto  Him.  The  champions  of  truth, 
and  defenders  of  the  faith,  are  not  necessarily  fight- 
ing-men, —  men  of  war  from  their  youth,  of  so  mili- 
tant a  zeal  as  to  blow  defiance  through  all  their  tones, 
the  lines  on  their  faces  constantly  drawn  into  one 
concentrated  belligerent  scowl.  The  most  effective 
way  of  i^leading  for  Christ  against  His  enemies  is  to 
let  Him  plead  His  own  cause  before  them.  Lay  aside 
the  club  of  controversy  and  introduce  Him,  and  all 
His  adversaries  will  speedily  be  ashamed.  If  a  sen- 
suous, materialistic  worship  has  no  part  in  Him,  the 
same  is  true  of  all  else  that  does  not  give  to  His  cross 
the  chief  and  foremost  place.  The  way  to  scatter 
darkness  is  not  to  be  forever  beating  it,  but  to  bring 
in  light.  Christ  is  the  light  of  the  world.  There  is  in 
Him  a  surpassing  beauty,  which  all  men  can  be  made 
to  feel.  Forms  and  creeds  must  change,  as  our  social 
and  intellectual  culture  changes ;  and  they,  at  the 
best,  supply  only  superficial  and  brief-lived  wants. 
But  the  want  in  us  which  Christ  meets  is  central  and 
everlasting.  No  education  can  change  it,  save  to  mako 
it  intenser  and  more  vast.  That  is  the  susceptibility 
in  us  that  needs  to  be  awakened.  Here  are  the 
measures  of  meal  in  which  to  hide  the  good  leaven ; 
there  the  soil  which,  receivinsr  the  orain  of  mustard- 
seed,  shall  nourish  it  up  into  a  mighty  tree.  Let  love 
to  Christ  become  the  master  passion,  and  we  need  not 


THE   IMMORTALITY  OF   THE    CROSS.        11 

trouble  ourselves  about  other  passions  ;  it  will  swallow 
them  up.  The  healing  and  saving  power  of  the  gos- 
pel does  not  dwell  beneath  our  crossed  swords.  Are 
you  a  polemic  ?  The  day  is  coming  w^hen  no  one  wdll 
care  whether  you  conquered  or  were  defeated,  for  the 
warfare  itself  will  be  forgotten.  Are  you  a  zealot  for 
some  human  theory  of  the  church  ?  Your  work  will 
perish  with  the  world  of  which  it  was  born.  Are  you 
a  propagandist,  teaching  for  doctrine  the  command- 
ments of  men  ?  One  generation  of  them  goeth,  and 
another  cometh ;  only  the  word  of  the  Lord  abideth. 
Do  you  chase  after  every  new  religious  dream  that 
seizes  on  your  fancy  ?  What  can  that  dream  do  for 
you  when  your  soul  awaketh  ?  Are  you  a  proselytizer 
in  the  interest  of  some  religious  party  ?  Your  converts 
will  curse  you,  for  turning  them  from  the  substance 
to  the  shadow  of  truth,  in  the  day  when  Christ  shall 
be  ail  in  all. 

Do  not  misunderstand  me.  There  is  here  no  con- 
troversy with  any  man's  taste,  or  peculiar  culture,  or 
natural  proclivities  toward  this  or  that  form  and 
method  of  expressing  his  new  life  in  Christ  Jesus. 
Let  the  river  make  its  ow^n  channel  in  which  to  flow : 
all  our  anxiety  should  be  for  the  fountain.  What 
quarrel  need  we  have  wath  Methodism,  with  Episco- 
pacy, with  Presb}i;erianism,  except  to  protest  against 
allowing  either  of  them,  or  any  form  or  theory  of 
church  order,  our  own  not  excepted,  to  usurp  the 
place  of  the  Cross  of  Christ  ?  There  are  conventions, 
and  courses  of  sermons,  and  newspapers,  and  endowed 
faculties,  and  voluntary  societies,  in  the  interest  and 
for  the  furtlierance  of  human  views  of  doctrine  and 
polity.  Each  one  of  these  views  has  some  special 
adaptation ;  but  no  one  nor  all  of  them  can  ever  be 


12  SERMONS. 

the  main  concern.  If  we  allow  tliem  to  absorb  our 
interest,  the  main  concern  will  very  likely  be  forgot- 
ten. ,If  Christians  press  the  claims  of  these,  and 
bring  them  into  conflict,  and  make  it  a  chief  business 
to  build  up  one  and  tear  down  the  others,  who  is  to 
look  after  a  world  that  lieth  in  wickedness  ?  Who  is 
to  hold  up  the  blood-stained  symbol  of  redemption  ? 
These  human  contrivances  will  have  vanished  out  of 
sight  one  day  ;  and  what  if  it  should  then  be  found 
that  there  are  no  saved  souls  inside  of  them,  —  no 
everlasting  temple  built  within  these  showy  scaffold- 
ings ?  "  Give  me  the  new  converts,"  is  the  voice  of 
a  true  Christian  discipleship,  "  and  you  may  have  all 
the  ecclesiastical  powers.  Let  me  see  pure  religion 
planted  in  the  hearts  of  men,  and  you  may  have  that 
earthly  grandeur  which  perishes  with  the  using." 
Whoever  is  an  earnest  co-worker  with  Christ  will  be 
tenacious  of  no  forms,  no  theories  of  the  church  ;  he  will 
only  be  afraid  of  that  which  crowds  the  regenerating 
spirit  of  God  into  a  secondary  place.  Let  that  spirit 
come.  Let  it  be  what  we  pray  for,  what  we  labor  for, 
—  our  joy  when  it  is  present,  and  our  desire  when  it 
is  absent.  That  spirit  does  the  deep,  the  everlasting 
work.  It  creates  the  fountain.  It  opens  the  well  of 
living  water.  Its  triumphs  are  not  superficial,  but 
central ;  not  transitory,  but  enduring  as  God.  Be 
afraid  of  any  schemes,  though  called  religious,  which 
keep  this  divine  inspiration  at  a  distance,  or  make  it 
secondary,  or  cause  it  to  be  forgotten.  The  new  birth 
of  souls,  and  growth  in  all  true  holiness,  is  the  cross  — 
the  work  of  Christ,  — that  which  shall  swell  the  chorus 
in  heaven.  Oh  that  Christ  might  see  of  the  travail  of 
His  soul ;  that  He  might  be  satisfied  ;  that  there  might 
be  joy  in  heaven  over  returning  prodigals;  that  we 


THE   IMMORTALITY   OF   THE    CROSS.        13 

who  call  Christ  "  Lord  "  might  enter  into  His  labors 
for  the  rescue  of  poor  immortals  !  Then  the  cross 
would  be  honored.  Then  church  order,  and  doctrine, 
and  forms  of  worship  would  grow  up  as  this  spirit  of 
redemption  had  need  of  them.  Then  it  would  soon 
be  decided  which  of  them  all  is  truest  and  best ;  for 
the  inner  life  would  choose  that  one  which  made  it 
most  effectual  in  reaching  and  saving  the  lost,  and  all 
the  others  would  wax  old,  and  wither  up,  and  vanish 
away.  Then  we  should  build  up  temples,  each  church 
and  each  believer,  such  as  the  fire  cannot  destroy. 
We  should  provide  polished  stones  for  that  temple 
whose  builder  and  maker  is  God.  Instead  of  the  sad 
moan,  "  Nothing  but  leaves,  nothing  but  leaves,"  as 
we  approach  our  Lord's  footstool,  we  should  be  able, 
in  that  dread  harvest-hour,  to  say,  '"  Master,  behold 
the  shocks  of  corn,  full  and  ripe,  which  these  hands 
have  reaped  for  thee."  "  Souls  are  our  hire,"  was  the 
thought  which  gladdened  the  apostle  in  his  penury. 
Oh  that  we  all  mioht  learn  to  regrard  them  as  our 
wages  !  Then  we  should  have  the  treasure  that  wax- 
eth  not  old.  Then  our  work,  like  Christ's,  would  be 
imperishable  ;  for  it  would  be  the  same  work,  and 
over  it  all  the  same  cross  would  be  lifted  up,  —  that 
cross  which  is  to  remain  the  sole  memorial  of  our 
world,  and  for  bearing  which  both  Master  and  disci- 
ples shall  be  cro^vned  in  the  same  kingdom. 

It  was  in  this  spirit  that  the  first  preachers  of 
Christianity  labored.  You  can  find  no  forms  of  wor- 
ship, no  theory  of  church  government  prescribed  for 
all  ages  and  nations,  laid  down  in  the  gospels  and 
epistles.  Paul  would  let  the  Jews  enjoy  their  ancient 
customs,  so  long  as  those  customs  did  not  obscure 
the  cross,  and  so  long  as  they  were  not  imposed  on 


14  SERMOiVS. 

the  Gentile  converts.  Where  the  spirit  of  the  Lord 
was,  there  was  liberty  for  each  discijjle  to  act  out  his 
faith  naturally,  —  through  such  machinery  as  was 
congenial  to  him,  or  without  machinery.  "  Unto  the 
Jews  I  became  as  a  Jew,  that  I  might  gain  the 
Jews ;  to  them  that  are  under  the  law,  as  under 
the  law,  that  I  might  gain  them  that  are  under  the 
law ;  to  them  that  are  without  law,  as  without  law 
(being  not  without  law  to  God,  but  under  the  law 
to  Christ),  that  I  might  gain  them  that  are  without 
the  law.  ...  I  therefore  so  run,  not  as  uncertainly  ; 
so  fight  I,  not  as  one  that  beateth  the  air."  It 
is  the  permanent  in  Christianity,  not  the  transient, 
the  essential,  not  what  is  merely  incidental,  that  en- 
gages the  apostle's  heart,  and  all  his  powers.  Why  is 
it,  my  brethren,  that  we  do  not  learn  to  follow  this 
inspired  example  ?  We  vex  ourselves  over  that  which 
is  outward  and  formal ;  and  most  fitly  may  this  worry 
of  ours  be  called  "  a  beatinsr  of  the  air."  We  can  do 
but  little,  however  much  pains  we  take,  toward  shap- 
ing church  polity  and  forms  of  worship.  Such  inci- 
dental matters  are  determined  by  influences  we  cannot 
control,  —  by  the  spirit  of  the  age,  great  social  forces, 
and  ideas  of  government  prevailing  in  the  state. 
They  may  have  Dissenting  churches  in  England,  but 
the  really  prevailing  theory  of  church  government 
there  is  i^redetermined  by  the  nature  of  the  civil 
government.  That  is  the  type,  the  model,  the  sur- 
.rounding  and  silently  moulding  power.  So  in  this 
country.  We  sometimes  say  that  Congregationalism 
gave  birth  to  our  civil  institutions.  But  I  think  it 
would  be  nearer  the  truth  to  say  that  the  spirit  of 
liberty,  evoked  by  what  is  called  the  Protestant  Refor- 
mation, gave  birth  to  our  civil  institutions  and  also  to 


THE   IMMORTALITY   OF   THE   CROSS.        15 

Congregationalism.  Now  that  spirit  is  around  us  all. 
It  is  the  informing  and  controlling  spirit,  not  only 
of  our  nation,  but  of  modern  times.  We  are  swept 
onward  unconsciously  by  its  currents.  Arctic  adven- 
turers have  sometimes  traveled  northward  for  days  at 
a  rapid  pace,  and  then  found  themselves  farther  south- 
ward than  when  they  set  out.  The  motion  of  the 
vast  ice-pack  on  which  they  were,  was  against  them. 
So,  in  this  countiy,  men  may  travel  toward  despotism 
in  their  ideas  of  church  order  ;  but,  after  all  their 
pains,  they  will  one  day  find  themselves  nearer  simple 
Independency  than  when  they  started.  The  j^eople 
of  our  country  will  never  consent  as  a  mass,  and  for 
any  long  period,  to  submit  to  a  religious  regime  which 
puts  them  into  a  state  of  tutelage  under  human  gov- 
ernors. They  will  carry  that  spirit  of  independence, 
which  the  state  has  nourished  in  them,  into  their 
ecclesiastical  connections  ;  and  there  it  will  work,  like 
new  wine  in  old  bottles,  unless  perchance,  fortunately 
for  both,  they  be  new  bottles.  No  matter  what  name 
the  ecclesiastical  body  is  called  by,  freemen  in  it  will 
make  it  free.  Those  of  us,  then,  who  feel  that  our 
view  of  church  order  and  forms  of  worship  is  in  sym- 
pathy with  the  free  spirit  of  the  nation,  need  not  be 
anxious,  nor  at  all  nervous.  We  can  well  afford  to 
devote  ourselves  with  all  our  might  to  the  more  cen- 
tral and  spiritual  purpose  of  the  gospel.  These  sub- 
ordinate matters  need  not  tempt  us  away  from  the 
cross.  We  can  safely  trust  them  to  the  great  cur- 
rents of  influence,  which  will  bear  them  on  to  all  the 
success  they  deserve,  and  which  will  undermine  oppos- 
ing theories.  We  need  not  assail,  and  attempt  to 
demolish  with  angry  strokes,  the  icebergs  of  ecclesias- 
ticism.    There  is  a  force  in  the  ages  which  will  sooner 


16  SERMOXS. 

or  later  float  them  out  of  the  polar  darkness  in  which 
they  were  gendered.  And  in  warmer  and  sunnier 
latitudes,  meeting  the  gulf  stream  of  free  ideas  and 
institutions,  their  cold  grandeur  will  lose  its  sparkle ; 
and  they  will  crumble,  and  melt,  and  blend  with  the 
surrounding  waters.  The  cross  is  our  standard,  — 
that  let  us  follow.  In  that  we  conquer,  —  conquer,  not 
for  time,  but  for  eternity;  conquer,  not  hierarchies, 
but  the  Prince  of  the  powers  of  the  air,  —  the  first 
and  the  last  enemy  of  the  Lamb  that  was  slain. 

I  have  alluded  to  doctrine.  What  is  the  relation  of 
that  to  the  cross  of  Christ?  As  the  doctrines  are 
often  preached,  presented  to  the  specidative  under- 
standing regardless  of  the  heart,  they  may  divert  our 
minds  from  that  which  is  of  central  and  permanent 
concern  in  the  Christian  calling.  The  profoundest 
Christian  doctrines  have  a  vital  connection  with  the 
cross.  But  their  vitality  depends  on  that  connection. 
When  severed  from  the  cross,  they  lose  their  life  and 
their  power  to  save.  It  is  by  offering  a  personal  Sa- 
viour to  men  that  we  shall  most  effectually  teach  and 
enforce  the  substance  of  them  aU.  The  Scriptures 
compare  those  doctrines  to  water,  —  the  water  of  life 
proceeding  forth  from  the  throne  of  God  and  the 
Lamb.  But  they  are  not  this  life  to  the  soul  when 
set  forth  in  scholastic  and  labored  phrase.  Only  as 
lifted  up  on  Calvary,  in  the  form  of  a  crucified  Re- 
deemer, do  they  draw  all  men  unto  them.  They  are 
the  living  water.  But  when  that  water  takes  the  form 
of  philosophy,  it  does  not  bless  our  thirsty  souls,  — 
we  look  off,  as  it  were,  on  a  dreadful  ocean  of  waters, 
and  stand  yearning  and  shivering  on  the  awful  shore. 
It  is  in  Christ,  coming  to  each  one  of  us  as  a  personal 
Saviour,  that  we  see   the  blessing  lifted  out  of  the 


THE  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE   CROSS.        17 

"  vasty  deep,"  and  transformed  into  streams  gushing 
by  the  wayside  of  the  poor  pilgrim,  of  which  he  drinks 
and  is  refreshed. 

What  every  soid  of  us  needs  is  not  so  much  to 
know  what  we  believe  as  whom  we  believe.  That 
was  the  knowledge  of  which  Paid  dared  to  boast ;  and 
without  which,  he  confessed,  though  he  understood  all 
mystery  and  all  knowledge,  he  would  be  as  sounding 
brass  and  a  tinlding  cymbal.  He  knew  in  part,  and 
he  prophesied  in  part ;  and  not  until  the  perfect  should 
come,  would  the  imperfect  be  done  away.  But  he 
thanked  God  that  he  was  permitted  to  know  one  thing 
even  in  this  life,  —  he  knew  whom  he  believed,  and 
that  knowing  of  Christ,  as  his  Saviour  and  Lord, 
was  a  treasure  which  nothing  else  could  give  or  take 
away. 

Brother-man,  with  a  soul  full  of  trouble  over  these 
great  questions  of  sin,  redemption,  immortality,  hear 
what  Christ  saith  to  the  heavy-laden.  Are  the  cham- 
pions of  w-arring  creeds  calling  to  you,  and  sapng, 
"  Lo  here !  Lo  there  !  "  "  Go  not  out  after  them." 
Do  sticklers  for  theories  of  the  church  and  forms  of 
worship  take  up  the  cry  from  all  quarters,  until  you 
are  bewildered  by  their  noise  and  shoutings  ?  "  Go 
not  out  after  them."  "  Come,"  says  Christ,  —  come 
unto  w^hat?  Unto  that  which  flatters  your  pride, 
which  pleases  your  taste,  which  falls  in  with  your 
eartlily  ambitions,  which  humors  your  ileslily  desires  ? 
No,  poor  laboring  soul  ;  not  unto  these,  unto  nothing 
able  only  to  meet  some  brief-lived  and  superficial  w^ant, 
but  "Come"  —  oh,  listen!  listen  as  though  there 
were  no  other  voice  in  all  the  world  !  —  "  Come  unto 
me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy-laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest." 


18  SERMONS. 

Where  is  this  Christ,  this  meek  and  lowly-hearted 
Friend,  who  thus  tenderly  pleads  with  you  to  take  His 
yoke  ujjon  you  and  learn  of  Him  ?  Is  He  far  off,  or 
near  at  hand  ?  He  is  close  by  your  side.  He  lays 
His  hand  upon  you.  He  whispers,  in  the  silence, 
''Follow  me."  Say  not  in  thine  heart,  Who  shall 
ascend  into  heaven  to  bring  Christ  down  from  above, 
or,  Who  shall  descend  into  the  deep  to  bring  Clirist 
up  ?  "  The  word  is  nigh  thee,  even  in  thy  mouth  and 
in  thy  heart ;  that  is,  the  word  of  faith  which  we 
preach,  that  if  thou  shalt  confess  with  thy  mouth  the 
Lord  Jesus,  and  shalt  believe  in  thine  heart  that  God 
hath  raised  Him  from  the  dead,  thou  shalt  be  saved." 
We  miss  the  living  water  by  going  out  after  it.  It 
gushes  at  the  feet  of  every  man ;  and  if  any  man 
thirst,  let  him  drink. 

"Came  North,  came  South,  came  East,  came  West, 
Four  sag-es  to  a  mountain  crest, 
Each  pledged  to  search  the  wide  world  round 
Until  the  wondrous  well  be  found. 
Before  a  crag  they  take  their  seat, 
Pure  bubbling  waters  at  their  feet. 
Says  one,  '  This  water  seems  not  rare, 
Not  even  bright,  but  pale  as  air.' 
The  second  says,  '  So  small  and  dumb, 
From  earth's  deep  centre  can  it  come  ?  ' 
The  third,  '  This  well  is  small  and  mean, 
Too  petty  for  a  village  green;  ' 
The  fourth,  '  Thick  crowds  I  looked  to  see  : 
Where  the  true  well  is,  these  must  be.' 
They  rose  and  left  the  mountain  crest. 
One  north,  one  east,  one  south,  one  west  ; 
O'er  many  seas  and  deserts  wide 
They  wandered,  thirsting,  till  they  died. 
The  simple  shepherds  by  the  mountain  dwell. 
And  dip  their  pitchers  in  the  wondrous  well." 


SONS   OF  GOD  THROUGH  CHRIST. 

He  came  unto  His  own,  and  His  own  received  Hira  not.  But  as 
many  as  received  Him,  to  them  g-ave  He  power  to  become  the  sons  of 
God,  even  to  them  that  believe  on  His  name  :  which  were  born,  not  of 
blood,  nor  of  the  will  of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the  will  of  man,  but  of  God. 

John  i.  11-13. 

The  salvation  of  tlie  human  soul  is  dejDendent  on 
just  one  tiling,  receiving  Christ :  "  As  many  as  re- 
ceived Him,  to  them  gave  He  power  to  become  the 
sons  of  God."  So  important  a  statement  ought  to 
be  looked  at  closely,  and  carefully  weighed.  We  are 
saved  when  we  stand  in  the  relation  of  sonship  to 
God  ;  responding,  that  is,  with  filial  piety,  to  that 
fatherliness  wliich  He  feels  toward  us.  We  have 
been  thrown  out  of  that  relation  into  a  condition  of 
spiritual  orphanage.  By  nature  we  do  not  see  God 
as  a  Father,  but  as  "  an  hard  Master."  We  are  still 
His  children,  for  He  is  "  the  Father  of  the  spirits  of 
all  flesh,"  but  the  child-feeling  within  us  is  dead  in 
the  midst  of  our  "  trespasses  and  sins."  He  would  see 
His  orphaned  child  restored,  —  longs  to  be  able  to  say, 
"  My  son  was  dead,  and  is  alive  again ;  and  was  lost, 
and  is  found."  And  this  longing  of  the  Father's 
heart  is  met  by  our  receiving  Him  who  was  both  the 
Son  of  God  and  the  Son  of  man,  —  the  Son  of  man 
and  our  brother,  in  the  sense  that  He  shares  with  us, 
in  some  wonderful  manner,  all  the  pains  of  our  orphan- 
age ;  the  Son  of  God,  in  the  sense  that  He  enjoys, 
perfectly  and  in  an  infinite  degree,  that  sonship  into 


20  SERMONS. 

which  we  have  power  to  enter  tlirough  believing  on 
His  name. 

The  force  of  these  words,  "  Son  of  man,"  lies  in  the 
opening  announcement  of  the  text :  "  He  came  unto 
His  own."  There  may  be  here  a  primary  reference 
to  the  Jews,  of  whose  stock  He  came  in  the  line  of 
David;  but  the  broader  meaning,  which  makes  all 
mankind  "  His  own,"  is  just  as  true.  The  whole 
human  family  became  "  His  own "  by  His  taking 
humanity  upon  Him;  That  taking  of  humanity  was 
what  made  Him  the  "  Son  of  Man,"  —  the  Brother,  as 
God  is  the  Father,  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh.  And 
He  is  no  unsympathizing  brother.  By  virtue  of  His 
humanity  we  are  made  "  His  own  "  to  Him ;  and  in 
this  relation  it  is  that  He  takes  all  our  human  infirmi- 
ties upon  Him,  and  comes  to  us,  —  revealed  as  a 
bearer  of  our  temptations  and  sins,  though  Himself 
without  sin.  And  He  is  not  ashamed  to  call  us  His 
brethren,  to  be  numbered  with  the  transgressors,  and 
to  stand  forth  and  make  confession  of  our  sins  for  us 
in  the  presence  of  His  Father. 

But  many  who  are  His  own  —  His  by  virtue  of  His 
being  in  humanity  —  do  not  receive  Him.  This  was 
especially  true  in  the  beginning  of  the  gospel ;  most 
true  of  the  stock  of  Abraham.  It  is  more  or  less  true 
in  all  ages  of  the  world.  And  still,  as  at  first,  His 
rejecters  are  sometimes  those  whom  we  should  expect 
to  see  receiving  Him  most  eagerly.  We,  dear  friends, 
may  deceive  and  mislead  ourselves,  just  as  multitudes 
of  Christ's  "  own  "  have  done  in  former  ages.  Like 
them,  we  may  picture  to  our  minds  what  Christ  will 
be  when  He  comes  ;  and  then  reject  Him,  at  His  com- 
ing, because  so  different  from  what  we  had  pictured. 
Undoubtedly  there  are  many  false  Christs,  whom  men 


SONS  OF   GOD    THROUGH   CHRIST.  21 

believe  in  while  rejecting  the  true  Christ.  The  Scrip- 
ture says,  "  Judge  not,  that  ye  be  not  judged  ;  "  and  1 
do  not  propose  at  this  time  to  judge  any  man ;  but 
may  I  not  turn  inward,  upon  each  one  of  our  spirits, 
that  light  which  there  is  in  the  text,  thus  making  it, 
to  us  all,  a  revealer  of  our  condition  before  God  ? 

Of  how  many  of  us  can  it  be  truly  said  that  Christ 
"  has  given  us  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God  "  ? 
This  question  may  be  answered  by  determining  how 
many  of  us  have  received  Christ.  What  is  He  ?  and 
what  is  it  to  receive  Him?  These  are  the  decisive 
inquiries. 

Some  of  us,  who  hope  that  we  have  received  Christ, 
may  have  mistaken  something  else  for  Him.  Our 
Christ  may  be  more  or  less  a  fiction  of  our  own  minds, 
into  agreement  with  which  we  wrest  the  Scriptures, 
rather  than  the  real  Christ  which  the  Scriptures  offer 
us.  In  one  respect  we  are  worse  off  than  those  who 
lived  in  the  time  of  Christ.  Their  false  views  of  Him, 
which  they  had  cherished  in  advance  of  His  coming, 
were  disproved  by  His  actual  appearance.  But  we 
may  live  on,  holding  fast  to  a  wrong  opinion  of  Him, 
nor  have  our  error  corrected  till  we  meet  Him  in 
judgment.  Our  first  great  need,  then,  in  making  up 
our  minds  what  Christ  is,  is  an  unprejudiced  and 
docile  spirit.  We  must  not  come  to  Him  with  some 
preconceived  theory,  or  system  of  doctrine,  and  look 
at  Him  through  that  distorting  medium  ;  but  we  must 
let  Him  come  to  us,  and  must  see  Him  as  He  is.  He 
is  a  Saviour.  "  Thou  shalt  call  His  name  Jesus," 
said  the  angel ;  "  for  He  shall  save  His  people  from 
their  sins."  He  is  the  Atoner,  the  Reconciler  of  the 
world  to  God.  An  instructor  into  all  morality,  yet 
not  a  moralist.     A  teacher  of  profound  doctrine,  yet 


22  SERMONS. 

no  framer  of  doctrinal  systems.  He  came  to  do  a 
work  rather  than  deliver  a  message.  That  He  spoke 
the  truth,  is  not  His  grand  peculiarity,  but  that  He 
was  the  truth.  "  In  Him  was  life,  and  the  life  was  the 
light  of  men."  He  was  the  "  first-born  of  every  crea- 
ture "  ;  that  is,  the  first  instance  of  a  perfect  divine 
sonship  in  humanity.  This  preeminence  among  His 
brethren  was  witnessed  to  when  the  Spirit  descended 
like  a  dove  upon  Him,  and  the  voice  out  of  heaven 
said,  "  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  with  whom  I  am  well 
pleased."  What  the  Father  desires  in  men  is,  that 
they  should  feel  as  He  feels  respecting  their  sinful- 
ness. It  is  their  sin  which  awakens  the  wrath  of  a 
holy  God ;  and  the  moment  they  abhor  their  sin,  pre- 
cisely as  He  abhors  it,  that  moment  He  lays  by  His 
anger.  "  If  we  confess  our  sins.  He  is  faithful  and 
just  to  forgive  us  our  sins,  and  to  cleanse  us  from  all 
unrighteousness."  But  no  man  is  equal  to  this  confes- 
sion in  his  own  strength.  He  must  have  One  to  inter- 
cede, and  to  confess  for  him.  Now  here  it  is  that  we 
find  that  by  which  Christ  is  made  a  Saviour  to  us.  He 
is  that,  in  sinful  humanity,  which  the  holy  Father 
must  find  in  order  to  forgive  sin.  By  His  infinite 
sympathy  He  enters  into  all  our  sad  state,  and  bears 
upon  His  heart  the  burden  of  our  sins,  though  Him- 
self without  sin.  He  is  the  perfect  and  holy  Son  of 
God  in  humanity ;  and  He  resj)onds  for  us,  as  we  can- 
not for  ourselves,  to  that  condemnation  which  has 
gone  forth  against  us.  He  feels  as  our  Brother  what 
God  feels  as  our  Father,  in  view  of  our  sinfulness. 
And  that  feeling,  on  the  ground  of  His  brotherhood 
with  us,  is  accepted  as  our  feeling ;  accepted,  that  is, 
so  far  as  we,  by  choosing  to  partake  in  it,  become  the 
sons  of  God.     This  Son,  obedient  unto  death.   His 


SONS   OF   GOD   THROUGH  CHRIST.  23 

sonship  proved  by  His  sufferings,  is  the  Christ  of  the 
Scriptures.  "  Lo,  I  come  to  do  thy  will,  O  God  !  " 
"  No  man  cometh  to  the  Father  but  by  me."  "  No 
man  kiiowetli  the  Father  but  the  Son,  and  he  to  whom 
the  Son  shall  reveal  Him."  The  Christ,  therefore, 
whom  we  are  to  receive,  is  this  perfect  Son  of  God 
and  human  brother ;  this  filial  Spirit  in  humanity,  in 
perfect  agreement  with  God's  Fatherliness,  —  His  con- 
fession as  our  Brother  a  perfect  Amen  to  God's  con- 
demnation as  our  Father.  Can  you  conceive  Christ 
in  this  relation  to  you  ?  Perhaps  not  clearly.  No 
doubt  I  fail  to  present  Him  adequately.  But  the 
intellectual  apprehension  is  not  necessary.  It  comes 
after,  rather  than  before,  the  time  at  which  we  are 
made  sons  of  God.  But  there  is  one  liofht  in  which 
you  can  understand  Christ ;  that  is,  as  the  procurer  of 
salvation  for  you.  It  is  as  doing  this  for  you  that  you 
must  apprehend  Him,  or  you  cannot  receive  Him.  To 
accomplish  this  work,  it  is,  that  He  becomes  the  sin- 
less Son  in  sinful  humanity ;  the  bearer  and  confessor 
of  all  our  sin,  who  did  no  sin  ;  pouring  out  His  soul 
unto  death,  that  He  might  be  to  us  the  resurrection 
and  the  life. 

And  what  is  it  to  receive  this  holy,  suffering 
Saviour  ?  —  this  Son  of  man,  our  perfect  Brother ; 
this  Son  of  God,  our  reconciler  to  a  justly  offended 
Father?  To  receive  Him  is  more  than  to  admire 
Him.  Many  shall  say  unto  Him,  "  We  have  eaten 
and  drunk  in  thy  presence,  and  thou  hast  taught  in 
our  streets."  But  He  shall  say,  "  I  tell  you,  I  know 
you  not  whence  ye  are."  All  must  be  filled  with  won- 
der and  subdued  to  tears  at  the  sight  of  the  pure  Son 
of  God  veiling  Himself  in  corruptible  flesh ;  owning 
as  His  brethren,  before  the  Father,  those  with  whom 


24  SERMONS. 

the  Father  is  so  deeply  and  justly  offended  ;  and  mak- 
ing confession  of  their  sin,  that  He  may  be  to  them  a 
way  of  reunion  with  the  Father.  It  is  not  in  our 
power  to  be  unmoved  by  such  love,  —  a  love  in  which 
the  hearts  of  the  Father  and  Son  are  revealed  in  per- 
fect accord,  —  a  love  which  shows  that  the  Father  is 
ready  to  forgive  the  moment  we  make  confession,  and 
in  which  the  Son  makes  confession  for  us  because  of 
our  infirmity. 

To  receive  this  Christ  is  to  let  Him  do  for  us  that 
which  He  came  to  do.  And  this  "  letting,"  on  our 
part,  involves  a  free  and  earnest  choice.  We  must 
choose  to  take  that  which  He  waits  to  give.  We  are 
not  dealing  with  fate,  but  with  love.  You  do  not  let 
Christ  do  for  you  what  He  came  to  do,  while  you  are 
indifferent,  —  while  you  say,  ''  I  will  take  no  further 
concern  for  myself,  but  leave  all  to  Him."  He  does 
not  come  in  through  the  bolted  door  ;  only  those  who 
hear  His  voice  and  open  the  door  sup  with  Him,  and 
He  with  them.  There  must  be  the  perceiving  eye,  the 
hearing  ear,  the  understanding  heart,  the  consenting 
will.  You  have  heard  men  object  to  prayer,  on  the 
ground  that  God  will  bestow  all  He  intends  to  without 
our  asking  :  "  to  ask  Him,"  it  is  said,  "  is  to  doubt 
His  love."  Not  so.  For  that  asking  is  the  response 
of  a  child's  love  to  a  father's  love.  It  brings  the 
minds  of  the  receiver  and  giver  into  sympathy,  and 
this  sympathy  is  the  channel  through  which  the  bless- 
ing flows.  The  rain  of  divine  grace  descends  on  the 
just  and  the  unjust,  but  only  the  just  have  power  to 
receive  it.  The  sun  of  God's  love  shines  on  the  evil 
and  the  good ;  but  to  the  evil,  whose  souls  are  closed 
up,  that  light  of  love  is  only  darkness.  Thus  it  is 
that  there  must  be  on  our  part  a  choosing  of  Christ, 


SONS   OF   GOD    THROUGH   CHRIST.  25 

—  a  choosing  Him  to  be  our  Confessor  into  tlie  Father, 
to  be  our  perfect  sonship  in  humanity  until  we  are 
introduced  into  the  hberty  of  the  sons  of  God.  You 
do  not  "  receive  "  a  physician  until  you  yield  yourself 
to  him  as  a  physician.  And  so  you  do  not  receive 
Christ  until  you  choose  Him  as  your  peace  with  God, 
as  fulfilling  for  you  that  perfect  duty  of  a  son  toward 
God,  of  which  you  are  yourself  effectually  incapable. 
It  was  this  inward,  sj^iritual  reception  of  Christ,  not 
the  outward  hospitality,  which  made  Zaccheus  "  a  son 
of  Abraham."  In  this  inward  sense  Christ  was 
rejected  by  great  multitudes,  who  followed  Him,  and 
entertained  Him  in  their  houses.  We  are  to  observe 
that  He  made  only  two  classes  of  aU  men.  Such  dis- 
tinctions as  Jew  and  gentile,  learned  and  unlearned, 
rich  and  poor,  Pharisee  and  publican,  were  nothing  to 
Him.  None  who  rejected  Him  as  a  perfect  Son  and 
Brother  to  deal  with  the  Father  on  their  behalf,  but 
only  those  who  received  Him,  and  believed  on  His 
name  as  that  whereby  they  might  be  saved,  had  power 
given  them  to  become  the  sons  of  God.  All  profes- 
sions, and  pretensions,  and  preconceived  theories,  and 
intellectual  systems  went  for  nothing.  On  one  side  is 
put  every  rejecter  and  on  the  other  side  every  receiver 
of  this  Procurer  of  salvation  for  us ;  and  unto  these 
latter  alone  it  is  that  Christ  is  made  a  reconciling 
Brother,  to  bring  us  nigh  unto  the  Father,  whom  we 
have  forsaken. 

Yes,  He  gives  to  all  such  "power  to  become  the 
sons  of  God."  In  one  sense,  as  I  have  said,  no  man 
has  ever  ceased  to  be  a  son  of  God ;  for  God  is  called 
"  the  Father  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh."  Saint  Paul, 
reasoning  with  the  unbelieving  Athenians,  taught  them 
that   they  were  "  God's   offspring."     It  is  probable 


26  SERMONS. 

that  the  Lord's  Prayer  was  given  to  the  disciples 
before  they  had  entered  into  any  new  experience  of 
sonship.  Yet  in  that  prayer  they  are  taught  to  say, 
"  Our  Father."  And  it  seems  to  me  that  we  must 
recognize  this  child's  capacity  in  all  men,  or  we  can 
cherish  no  hope  of  the  recovery  of  men  to  God. 
There  must  be  a  susceptibility  which  can  receive  the 
life  which  there  is  in  Christ;  something  which  was 
dead,  but  which  can  be  made  alive  again ;  a  capacity 
of  which  we  are  unconscious,  but  which  it  is  one  office 
of  Christ  to  quicken  within  us,  until  we  shall  sigh  for 
a  reunion  with  the  Father.  No  new  thing  is  created 
in  the  prodigal ;  but  when  he  comes  to  himself  —  wak- 
ens up  thoroughly  to  what  he  already  is  —  he  arises, 
and  seeks  the  Father's  arms.  There  is  something  in 
every  individual  of  humanity,  which,  in  reference  to 
the  life  in  Christ,  is  akin  to  the  capacity  of  the  branch 
to  receive  the  life  in  the  vine.  Christ  teaches  us  that 
it  is  through  the  action  of  the  eternal  Spirit  that  He 
is  kept  in  this  near  relation  to  every  soul.  This  Spirit 
was  promised  in  connection  with  His  departure  from 
the  earth,  impressing  the  blessed  truth  that  He  is 
always  present  spiritually.  The  true  vine  continues 
to  be  in  the  world  until  all  the  branches  which  receive 
its  life  are  made  fruitful,  —  bearing  the  same  fruit  of 
obedience  which  He  bore  throughout  the  days  of  His 
suffering.  The  quickening  life  in  Him,  through  the 
eternal  Spirit,  is  ever  seeking  an  entrance  into  our 
spirits ;  it  is  ever  pressing  against  the  inmost  door  of 
our  hearts ;  and  when  we  admit  it,  we  enter  into  the 
same  relation  to  God  in  which  He  stands.  We,  in  our 
lapsed  and  sinful  condition,  have  lost  our  conscious- 
ness of  the  filial  feeling.  The  capacity  is  still  in  us, 
but  it  needs  to  be  quickened.     God  calls  to  each  one 


SONS   OF  GOD   THROUGH   CHRIST.  27 

of  us,  saying,  "My  son,"  but  there  is  nothing  in  us 
which  says  in  response,  ''  My  Father."  This  power 
to  respond  to  the  feeling  of  the  Father's  heart  is  what 
Christ  gives.  As  soon  as  we  receive  Him,  —  as  soon 
as  our  spirits  are  opened,  by  faith  in  Him,  to  take  in 
that  light  of  life  which  He  is  longing  to  imparfc,  —  the 
orphan  feeling  leaves  us.  The  spirit  of  the  child  is 
wakened  out  of  its  sleep  within  us,  is  raised  from  the 
dead,  and  we  cry,  ''  Abba,  Father,"  to  the  voice  of 
God  which  addresses  us  as  children.  It  is  at  first  a 
feeble,  infantile  cry  ;  the  cry  of  a  spirit  just  born  out 
of  darkness  into  the  light  of  a  Father's  love.  Yet  the 
sense  of  loneliness,  and  of  distance  from  God,  is  gone. 
The  relation  between  father  and  child  is  restored; 
and,  as  the  consciousness  of  that  relation  deepens,  the 
cry,  "Abba,  Father,"  becomes  more  articulate  and 
full.  Thus,  in  a  manner,  is  it  that  Christ  gives  as 
many  as  receive  Him  power  to  become  the  sons  of 
God.  He  gives  them  the  power.  They  have  it  in 
themselves  to  exercise  under  the  control  of  their  own 
will.  They  receive  it  as  the  branches  receive  sap  from 
the  vine,  as  all  the  members  of  the  body  receive  a 
vitalizing  energy  from  the  head  and  heart.  But  it  is 
their  own  through  their  abiding  in  Christ,  and  in  the 
free  exercise  of  it  they  become  sons  of  God.  The 
consciousness  of  a  filial  relation  to  God  grows  within 
them  till  they  are  filled  by  it.  They  have  always  been 
His  offspring,  but  never  before  consciously  such.  That 
in  them  which  was  dead  is  alive  again :  it  was  lost, 
and  is  found. 

Now,  dear  friends,  if  we  have  experienced  this  in- 
ward quickening,  —  if  Christ,  through  the  eternal 
Spirit,  has  given  us  the  power  to  say,  "  Our  Father," 
when  we  hear  God  calling  us  His  children,  —  what  is 


28  SERMONS. 

our  evidence  ?  It  is  the  consciousness  of  being  faith- 
ful to  the  duties  of  this  new  relation  of  sonship.  "  The 
Spirit  witnesseth  with  our  spirit  that  we  are  the  chil- 
dren of  God."  There  is  a  loving  confidence  estab- 
lished between  our  hearts  and  the  divine  heart  which 
we  feel  to  be  mutual.  God,  though  grievously  sinned 
against,  is  our  friend  and  Father ;  and  we  come  to 
Him  with  a  child's  open  heart,  confessing  all,  acknowl- 
edging all,  grieving  in  His  grief  over  our  wickedness, 
and  yielding  ourselves  with  a  full  response  to  His  own 
yearning,  that  He  may  make  us  pure  even  as  He  is 
pure.  We  have  a  perfect  example  of  what  this  son- 
ship  is,  in  the  life  of  Christ.  It  was  His  delight  to 
do  His  Father's  will.  In  Him  the  spirit  of  the  child 
was  never  absent  or  dormant.  It  responded  constantly 
to  the  spirit  of  the  Father.  He  and  the  Father  were 
one  ;  He  in  the  Father,  and  the  Father  in  Him.  The 
life  of  sonship  in  Him,  I  say,  was  perfect.  He  viewed 
all  things  just  as  God  viewed  them  ;  felt  as  God  felt ; 
wished  what  God  wished,  with  this  only  difference,  — 
that  He  felt  as  a  Son,  and  God  as  a  Father,  in  refer- 
ence to  all  things.  We  cannot  expect  this  perfect 
evidence,  being  ourselves  imperfect ;  but  we  can  have 
it  in  our  measure.  There  is  something  in  the  feeblest 
cry  of  His  own  child  which  the  Father  can  distinguish 
from  any  cry  of  an  alien  ;  and  there  is  something  in 
the  feeblest  child's  heart  which  distinguishes  its  own 
Father's  voice  from  all  other  voices.  "  My  sheep  hear 
my  voice,  and  follow  me  ;  but  a  stranger  will  they  not 
follow,  for  they  know  not  the  voice  of  a  stranger." 
We  know,  dear  friends,  how  the  sonship  of  the  all- 
perfect  Son  was  manifested.  "  He  humbled  Himself, 
and  became  obedient  unto  death,  even  the  death  of 
the  cross  ;  "  "  As  a  Son,  learned  He  obedience  through 


SONS   OF   GOD   THROUGH   CHRIST.  29 

suffering."  He  entered  into  all  the  Father's  yearn- 
ings over  His  lost  family  on  the  earth.  He  entered 
into  that  lapsed  humanity,  and,  through  the  eternal 
Spirit,  is  still  in  it  as  a  quickening  and  restoring  power. 
He  goes  before  the  Father  for  us  with  that  perfect 
confession  to  which  we  are  unequal;  and  thus  the 
Father's  displeasure  is  turned  away  from  us.  What 
God  must  find  in  humanity,  in  order  that  His  wrath 
toward  us  may  cease,  is  a  perfect  response  to  His  own 
feelings  in  view  of  sin.  And  He  finds  that  response 
in  Christ.  And  Christ  not  only  makes  that  response 
for  us,  but  He  gives  us  power  to  make  it  ourselves. 
He  quickens  in  us  that  child-feeling  toward  God,  which 
is  dead ;  and  so  we,  following  Him  in  the  regenera- 
tion, enter  into  all  God's  feelings  toward  our  sinful 
race,  —  our  voice  of  confession,  in  its  measure,  re- 
sponding to  His  voice  of  condemnation  ;  our  whole 
lives  being  one  unbroken  endeavor  to  do  for  sinning 
and  sorrowing  men  what  Christ  did  for  them,  who 
felt  and  did  for  them  as  a  Brother  just  what  God  felt 
and  did  for  them  as  a  Father.  Thus  to  be  one  with 
the  Father  and  Son,  loving  righteousness  and  hating 
iniquity ;  condemning  all  sin  and  striving  after  all 
holiness ;  laboring  when  we  may,  and  suffering  when 
we  must,  to  make  this  mind  of  the  Fatlier  manifest  to 
all  men,  that  they  also  may  believe  on  the  name  of 
Christ,  —  this  is  the  evidence  that  we  have  received 
power  to  become  the  sons  of  God.  "  As  many  as  are 
led  by  the  spirit  of  God,  they  are  the  sons  of  God." 
Just  such  a  spirit  as  was  in  Christ,  just  such  a  life  as 
He  lived,  —  differing  only  as  its  circumstances,  exi- 
gencies, and  opportunities  differ,  —  belongs  to  every 
soul  which  has  been  quickened  toward  God,  so  as  to  be 
able  to  look  up  into  His  face  and  cry,  "  Abba,  Father." 


so  SERMONS. 

All  such,  but  no  others,  as  we  are  taught  in  the 
closing  words  of  the  text,  "  have  been  born,  not  of 
blood,  nor  of  the  will  of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the  will  of  man, 
but  of  God."  This  birth  of  God  is  mysterious,  as  all 
life,  whether  of  matter  or  spirit,  is  mysterious  in  its 
beginnings.  No  soul  should  expect  to  be  able  to  real- 
ize perfectly  all  the  steps  in  the  process  by  which  it 
passes  from  death  to  life.  It  should  be  content  to  be 
without  this  knowledge,  if  so  blessed  as  to  find  the 
evidence  that  it  is  in  the  life.  "  The  wind  bloweth 
where  it  listeth,  and  thou  hearest  the  sound  thereof ; 
but  thou  canst  not  tell  whence  it  cometh,  and  whither 
it  goeth :  so  is  every  one  that  is  born  of  the  Spirit." 
"  Thou  hearest  the  sound  thereof."  Yes,  dear  brother, 
let  that  suffice.  Hearing  in  your  own  heart  the  re- 
sponse to  the  voice  of  the  Father's  heart,  having  in 
you  the  same  spirit  of  sympathy  with  man  and  obe- 
dience to  God  which  Christ  had,  seek  not  curiously  to 
lay  open  the  sources  of  this  new  life.  Say  rather, 
with  the  man  whose  eyes  were  opened,  "  One  thing  I 
know,  that,  whereas  I  was  blind,  now  I  see."  And  let 
that  seeing  —  that  walking  in  the  light  of  God  —  be 
all  your  joy  and  the  crown  of  your  rejoicing.  Possibly 
some  of  you,  while  listening  to  these  remarks,  have 
heard  described  an  experience  in  which  you  cannot 
truly  say  that  you  have  ever  shared.  If  so  ;  if  you 
have  never  as  dear  children  met  the  mind  of  the 
Father,  and  responded  with  the  voice  of  sonship  to 
the  voice  of  His  f  atherliness,  —  then  are  you  still  "  in 
the  gall  of  bitterness  and  bond  of  iniquity."  All  your 
knowledge  of  mystery,  and  your  faith  in  articles  of 
doctrine,  are  nothing.  You  must  do  your  first  works. 
You  must  bring  forth  fruits  meet  for  repentance.  God 
looketh  not  on  the  outward  appearance,  —  the  respect- 


SONS   OF  GOD    THROUGH   CHRIST.  31 

able  profession  ;  He  looketli  on  the  heart.  He  watches 
that  heart  to  see  in  it  a  child's  face  reflecting  back 
every  feeling  depicted  in  His  own.  And  if  there  be 
any  hearts  here  in  which  He  discerns  that  filial  like- 
ness, they  are  His,  and  nothing  shall  separate  them 
from  His  love.  Have  you  received  Christ  ?  Is  His 
holy  life  of  obedience  to  the  Father  formed  within 
your  life?  Can  you  say,  and  do  you  love  to  say, 
"  Father,  thy  will  be  done,"  whatever  the  burden  be 
that  is  laid  upon  you  ?  Then  do  not  doubt,  however 
feeble  you  seem  to  yourself  at  times  to  be,  that  you 
have  power,  —  power  to  enter  more  and  more  into  the 
consciousness  of  sonship  toward  God.  He  who  was 
touched  with  the  feeling  of  your  infirmities,  watches 
over  that  feeble  flame  in  your  soul.  Though  often- 
times choked  with  doubt.  He  will  not  suffer  it  to  be 
quenched.  If  you  believe,  He  wiU  help  your  unbelief. 
He  came  that  you  might  have  life,  and  that  you  might 
have  it  more  abundantly.  Harbor  not  any  longer  the 
dreary  sense  of  orphanage.  If  you  can  truly,  and  in 
the  depths  of  your  soul,  caU  God  Father,  then  are 
you  indeed  His  quickened  child.  Nor  should  you  hide 
the  light  of  this  new  life  under  a  bushel,  but  put  it 
on  the  candlestick  of  an  open  profession,  that  it  may 
give  light  to  all  in  the  house. 

Brethren  in  the  ministry  of  the  gospel,  let  us  be- 
think ourselves,  in  the  light  of  this  subject,  what  is 
the  nature  and  purpose  of  our  holy  calling.  Christ 
labored,  and  we  have  entered  into  His  labors.  It  is 
ours,  after  Him,  to  give  unto  others  the  power  to  be- 
come sons  of  God.  That  quickening  energy,  whose 
fountain-head  was  in  Him,  flows  on  through  us  unto 
the  end  of  the  world.  "He  that  receiveth  you  re- 
ceiveth  me,  and  He  that  receiveth  me  receiveth  Him 


32  SERMONS. 

that  sent  me,"  was  His  saying  when  He  sent  forth  the 
discii3les  to  teach  and  preach.  "  Lord,  to  whom  shall 
we  go  ?  thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal  life,"  was 
Peter's  confession  ;  and  we  are  to  utter  "  words  of 
eternal  life,"  until  those  who  listen  to  us  shall  be  con- 
strained to  confess  in  like  manner.  As  Christ  said, 
so  must  we  be  able  to  say,  "  The  words  which  I  speak 
unto  you,  they  are  spirit  and  life."  Thus  to  speak  is 
our  divine  commission,  —  kindling  our  torches  at  the 
central  fire,  and  bearing  them  outward  till  the  dark 
places  of  the  earth  are  no  more  full  of  the  habitations 
of  cruelty,  but  filled  with  light,  even  the  love  of  dear 
children  of  God.  "  The  works  which  I  do,  shall  ye 
do,"  said  Christ ;  "  and  greater  works  than  these  shall 
ye  do,  because  I  go  unto  the  Father."  That  life-giv^- 
ing  life  which  was  in  Him,  and  which  He  has  given 
us,  we  must  give  to  others ;  until  every  soul  of  man 
shall  awake,  and  arise  from  the  dead,  and  join  with 
us  in  the  glad  cry,  "  Abba,  Father."  Our  preaching 
must  have  in  it  this  life-giving  life  to  the  spirits  of 
men,  else  how  can  it  be  the  gospel  of  reconciliation, 
the  glad  tidings  of  great  joy  to  all  people  ?  What- 
ever it  may  fail  of  giving,  oh  let  it  not  fail  to  give,  to 
as  many  as  receive  us,  power  to  become  the  sons  of 
God.  1  have  no  word  to  utter  against  the  graces  of 
style,  the  charms  of  delivery,  or  the  weight  of  argu- 
ment ;  but  it  is  the  savor  of  eternal  life,  breathed 
through  our  discourse  and  through  all  our  minister- 
ing, that  will  quicken,  and  draw  on  to  their  Father's 
arms.  His  own  children,  now  lost  and  dead,  to  whom 
we  are  sent.  "  And  I,  brethren,  when  I  came  to  you, 
came  not  with  excellency  of  speech,"  said  the  great 
apostle.  And  again  he  said,  "The  kingdom  of  God  is 
not  in  word,  but  in  power."     Since  the  words  which 


SONS   OF  GOD   THROUGH   CHRIST.  33 

we  speak  are  not  mere  words,  but  "  spirit  and  life," 
our  exercise  of  this  ministry  should  be  to  us  a  very 
serious  and  real  matter.  None  of  the  arts  of  speech, 
such  as  are  known  to  the  platform  and  forum,  become 
us  ;  no  ejfforts  to  persuade  men  save  those  which  rise 
out  of  the  living  truth  in  us.  No  fire,  no  earthquake, 
in  which  God  is  not,  but  His  still  small  voice,  speak- 
ing through  ours,  is  that  which  shall  cause  the  world 
to  hide  its  face  in  a  mantle  ;  is  that  which  shall  enable 
us  to  reach  the  hearts  of  our  Father's  lost  children, 
and  return,  after  the  Captain  of  our  salvation,  who 
was  made  perfect  through  suffering,  bringing  many 
sons  with  us  into  glory. 


THE  STRUCTURE  OF  THE  EPISTLE  TO  THE 
ROMANS. 

I  am  debtor  both  to  the  Greeks  and  to  the  Barbarians,  both  to  the 
wise  and  to  the  unwise.  So,  as  much  as  in  me  is,  I  am  ready  to  preach 
the  Gospel  to  you  that  are  at  Rome  also.  For  I  am  not  ashamed  of 
the  Gospel  of  Christ :  for  it  is  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation  to 
every  one  that  believeth ;  to  the  Jew  first,  and  also  to  the  Greek.  For 
therein  is  the  righteousness  of  God  revealed  from  faith  to  faith  :  as  it 
is  written,  The  just  shall  live  by  faith.  —  Romaks  i.  14-17. 

We  are  familiar  with  the  work  of  Philip  Doddridge 
entitled  "  The  Rise  and  Progress  of  Religion  in  the 
Soul."  But  that  treatise,  faithful  as  it  is  to  Christian 
exj)eri3nce,  has  often  seemed  to  me  to  stand  immeas- 
urably behind  the  Ej^istle  to  the  Romans,  in  its  own 
chosen  department ;  as  a  record  of  the  successive 
stages  of  the  new  life  in  Christ,  it  is  far  less  exhaus- 
tive and  powerful.  We  are  wont  to  regard  the  Epistle 
to  the  Romans  too  much  in  the  light  of  a  theological 
essay ;  we  get  bewildered  in  its  intricacies  of  speech, 
its  cumulative  restatements  and  long,  double  parenthe- 
ses :  and  then,  assuming  that  we  are  studying  only  a 
doctrinal  discussion,  we  turn  for  relief  to  what  are 
sometimes  termed  the  simpler  and  more  practical 
books  of  inspiration.  Now  this  impression  of  diffi- 
culty in  the  Romans,  excepting  in  some  of  the  details, 
—  this  impression,  though  very  general  and  sanctioned 
by  a  few  distinguished  names,  should  not  be  admitted 
too  hasli]}^  I  am  greatly  mistaken  if  this  is  not  the 
most  thorouglily  experimental,  and  the  most  intensely 


EPISTLE    TO    THE  ROMANS.  35 

practical,  of  all  the  apostle's  writings.  It  is  ad- 
dressed to  professing  Christians  mainly,  and  assumes 
that  they  have  been  thoroughly  regenerated ;  and  if 
we  of  the  present  day  fail  to  understand  it,  the  fact  is 
sadly  significant  that  the  church  has  lapsed  from  the 
primitive  standard  of  piety.  As  has  been  well  said,^ 
"  Everything  in  the  Epistle  wears  so  strongly  the  im- 
press of  the  greatest  originality,  liveliness,  and  fresh- 
ness of  experience ;  the  apostle  casts  so  sure  and 
clear  a  glance  into  the  most  delicate  circumstances  of 
spiritual  life  in  the  regenerate ;  he  can  with  such  ad- 
mirable clearness  resolve  the  particular  into  the  gen- 
eral, —  that  the  reader  who  occupies  the  low  and  con- 
fined level  of  natural,  worldly  knowledge,  now  feels  his 
brain  reel  as  he  gazes  at  those  stupendous  periods  of 
development  in  the  universe  disclosed  by  Paul,  and 
now  finds  his  vision  fail  as  it  contemplates  the  minute 
and  microscopic  processes  which  Paul  unveils  in  the 
hidden  depth  of  the  soul.  Where,  however,  analogous 
inward  experience,  and  the  spiritual  eye  sharpened 
thereby,  come  to  the  task,  the  essential  purport  of  the 
Epistle  makes  itself  clear,  even  to  the  simplest  mind." 
As  we  become  more  profoundly  conscious  of  the  inner 
life  with  Christ,  and  read  this  letter  to  the  Romans 
attentively,  we  shall  be  persuaded,  I  think,  that  it  is 
an  enthusiastic  portrayal  of  the  writer's  own  expe- 
rience —  that  it  belongs  in  the  same  class  of  writings 
with  Augustine's  Confessions,  the  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
and  the  Saint's  Everlasting  Rest.  As  the  Bishop  of 
Hippo  wrote  out  the  history  of  his  soul  in  his  own 
name,  as  Bunyan  seems  only  to  depict  his  own  spirit- 
ual life  in  the  story  of  the  Pilgrim,  and  as  Baxter 
drew  from  liis  own  heart  the  material  for  his  precious 

^  By  Olshausen. 


36  SERMONS. 

volume,  so  Paul  in  writing  this  Epistle  —  though  his 
pen  was  guided  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  he  often 
changes  the  particular  into  the  general,  and  the  con- 
crete into  the  abstract  —  seems  all  along  to  be  con- 
ducting his  readers  through  the  depths  and  windings 
of  his  own  Christian  experience.  The  preeminent 
value  of  the  Epistle,  as  it  seems  to  me,  and  that  to 
which  I  invite  your  attention  this  morning,  is  the  fact 
that  it  discloses,  in  its  very  plan  and  structure,  the 
history  of  God's  gracious  dealings  with  a  human  soul. 
It  begins  with  the  beginning,  and  ends  with  the  end, 
of  a  genuine  work  of  grace  in  the  heart ;  it  gives  us 
first  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  after  that  the  full  corn  in 
the  ear,  —  the  root,  the  stem,  and  the  branches,  and 
that,  too,  in  their  proper  order  and  vital  connections. 

Let  it  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  apostle  has  for 
nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century  been  a  believer  in 
Christ.  The  most  arduous  of  his  missionary  labors 
are  already  accomplished.  He  is  at  Corinth  on  his 
second  visit,  the  irregularities  and  divisions  of  the 
church  in  that  city  having  at  length  been  healed.  It 
is  the  eve  of  his  departure  for  Jerusalem  to  carry  the 
gifts,  contributed  by  the  churches  of  Achaia,  to  the 
impoverished  Christians  of  Palestine.  He  seems  to 
have  anticipated  visiting  the  brethren  in  Rome  before 
turning  his  face  eastward  again ;  and  now,  finding 
himself  unable  to  do  so,  and  having  an  opportunity  to 
send  them  a  message,  he  sits  down  at  the  last  moment 
to  dictate  for  them  a  letter  of  paternal  fellowship  and 
affection.  The  design  of  the  Epistle  is  such  as  natu- 
rally to  turn  his  thoughts  toward  himself.  He  feels 
that  he  is  a  veteran  in  the  service  of  the  Redeemer. 
The  very  effort  to  introduce  himself  to  the  Romans 
opens  to  his  mind  the  vistas  of  the  past.     He  beholds, 


EPISTLE    TO  THE  ROMANS.  37 

winding  up  through  the  avenues  of  memory,  all  the 
way  in  which  Christ  has  led  him,  —  from  the  first  fiery 
experience  in  the  road  to  Damascus,  on  over  the  three 
years  of  retirement  in  Arabia,  into  the  j)ersecutions 
at  Jerusalem,  the  opening  successes  of  his  ministry  in 
Antioch,  the  repeated  journey ings  by  sea  and  land  to 
found  and  nurture  Christian  churches  throughout 
western  Asia  and  the  cities  of  Greece ;  and  from  this 
summit  of  mighty  achievement,  and  attainments  in 
holiness,  —  taking  no  credit  to  himself,  but  ascribing 
all  to  the  wonderful  love  of  Christ,  —  his  soul  gushes 
out  in  the  language  of  joyful  thanksgiving.  Over- 
whelmed by  his  emotions  in  view  of  the  divine  mercy 
toward  him,  and  eager,  as  ever,  to  show  by  his  noble 
toils  that  he  is  not  ungrateful  to  his  Saviour,  he  ex- 
claims, "  I  am  debtor  both  to  the  Greeks  and  to  the 
Barbarians,  both  to  the  wise  and  to  the  unwise.  So, 
as  much  as  in  me  is,  I  am  ready  to  preach  the  gospel 
to  you  that  are  at  Rome  also.  For  I  am  not  ashamed 
of  the  gospel  of  Christ ;  for  it  is  the  power  of  God 
unto  salvation  to  every  one  that  believeth ;  to  the  Jew 
first,  and  also  to  the  Greek.  For  therein  is  the  right- 
eousness of  God  revealed  from  faith  to  faith ;  as  it  is 
written,  '  The  just  shall  live  by  faith.'  " 

Paul's  personal  experience,  then,  —  his  own  redemp- 
tion in  Christ  Jesus,  now  in  its  final  stages,  —  is  the 
material  out  of  which  he  constructs  his  Epistle  to  the 
Romans.  And  I  propose  now,  dropping  what  is  sub- 
ordinate to  his  main  purpose,  to  represent,  as  far  as  I 
can,  this  process  of  salvation,  which  he  has  so  won- 
drously  delineated. 

1.  The  first  great  truth  which  the  epistle  sets  forth 
is  the  apostasy  of  man  from  God.  Nearly  the  whole 
of  the  three  opening  chapters  is  occupied  with  this 


38  SERMONS. 

argument.  It  is  a  reverent,  manly,  and  forever  un- 
answerable statement.  The  apostle  sets  out  with  a 
very  forcible  vindication  of  the  goodness  of  God, — 
no  wickedness,  chargeable  against  the  human  race, 
can  throw  back  a  shadow  on  His  throne ;  for  He  has 
revealed  Himself  to  all  men,  making  known  His  char- 
acter and  will  and  their  obligations,  the  heathen  even 
being  instructed  out  of  their  own  conscience  and  exter- 
nal nature,  so  that  every  one,  whether  Jew  or  Gentile, 
is  without  excuse.  Having  thus  made  mankind  alto- 
gether responsible  for  the  condition  they  are  in,  he 
marshals  in  terrible  array  the  evidences  of  their  de- 
pravity. Beginning  with  the  Pagan  world,  that  he 
may  not  startle  Jewish  prejudice  too  soon,  he  leads  up 
his  readers  to  the  bar  of  conscience ;  and  after  they 
have  listened  to  the  awful  condemnation  of  that  judge, 
he  turns  their  gaze  outward  on  the  barbarities,  cruel- 
ties, and  loathsome  immoralities  of  the  Greek  and 
Roman  cities.  Then  —  knowing  that  he  has  by  this 
time  conciliated  his  Hebrew  readers,  who  were  always 
pleased  with  any  denunciation  of  the  unchosen  nations 
—  he  turns  the  argument,  with  twofold  weight,  against 
the  Jews  themselves.  Taking  them  upon  their  own 
ground,  which  was  the  Scriptures  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, he  piles  text  upon  text,  and  overwhelms  them 
with  thick-coming  interrogatories  and  appeals,  till  they 
are  brought  down  into  the  dust  side  by  side  with  all 
other  sinners,  their  guilt  eating  into  them  like  robes 
of  fire,  and  an  impassable  gulf  yawning  between  them 
and  the  holy  God. 

Now,  why  is  Paul  so  fearfully  in  earnest  here,  — 
why,  instead  of  kindly  sparing  his  friends  at  Rome, 
does  he  so  lacerate  their  sensibilities  by  making  them 
appear  hideous  in  their  own  eyes,  —  if  this  sad  truth 


EPISTLE   TO   THE  ROMANS.  39 

of  apostasy  be  not  fundamental  in  any  plan  for  sav- 
ing men?  To  cause  unnecessary  pain  —  to  bruise 
the  human  heart,  and  cover  it  with  remorse,  merely 
for  the  sake  of  the  thing  —  is  a  refinement  in  cruelty 
of  which  the  gentle-souled  apostle  to  the  Gentiles  was 
utterly  incapable.  Yet  it  is  the  opening  announce- 
ment in  his  fraternal  letter  to  the  Romans.  He  lays 
it  down  as  the  foundation,  from  which  the  other  parts 
of  the  epistle,  like  the  walls  and  towers  of  some  noble 
temple,  rise  in  their  proper  order.  The  fact  that  he 
chooses  this  as  the  corner-stone  of  the  building  he  is 
rearing,  and  that  he  presents  the  truth  in  such  thor- 
oughness and  compacted  intensity,  points  to  the  begin- 
nings of  his  own  renewal  in  Christ  Jesus.  He  con- 
siders it  indispensable  that  men  should  see  themselves 
undone  and  helpless,  for  it  was  in  this  conviction  that 
his  o^vn  new  life  had  its  source.  Following  his  expe- 
rience backward,  as  he  so  often  has  more  manifestly 
in  other  places,  —  especially  in  his  last  address  at 
Jerusalem,  and  in  his  defense  before  Agrippa,  where 
he  details  with  striking  minuteness  the  circumstances 
of  his  conversion,  —  going  back  to  those  three  days 
of  agony  in  Damascus,  he  regards  that  dreadful  con- 
sciousness of  guilt  as  the  foundation  of  all  his  attain- 
ments in  holiness.  No  other  supposition  can  clear  up 
the  mystery  hanging  about  these  first  chapters  of  the 
epistle  ;  can  explain  why  it  was  that  the  kind-hearted 
old  missionary,  in  an  affectionate  letter,  should  pour 
forth  such  a  torrent  of  accusation  against  his  friends. 
It  is  the  character  of  Saul  of  Tarsus  that  he  is 
painting,  —  the  bloody  persecutor,  who  might  stand  as 
the  universal  representative  of  a  sinner,  since  the  Jew- 
ish and  Gentile  elements  were  about  equally  blended 
in  his  parentage  and  training.     What  we  read  else- 


40  SERMONS. 

where  —  of  the  light  above  the  noonday  brightness, 
of  the  voice  saying,  ''  Saul,  Saul,  why  persecutest  thou 
me  ?  "  of  the  three  days  and  nights  of  blindness,  and 
of  the  bitter  conflicts  of  soul  in  the  mean  time  —  is 
only  repeated  here  in  a  different  form.  The  apostle 
knows  that  as  in  water  face  answers  to  face,  so  the 
heart  of  man  to  man.  He  knows,  if  the  people  of 
Rome  are  ever  saved,  that  their  redemption  must  be- 
gin in  the  same  way  as  his  own.  They  must  be  smitten 
down  as  he  was  smitten,  and  feel  such  agonies  as  drove 
him  to  the  verge  of  despair.  Therefore  he  dips  his 
pen  deep  in  the  fountains  of  his  own  spiritual  history. 
It  is  Saul  of  Tarsus  still,  only  changed  from  the  par- 
ticular into  the  general,  whose  features  he  lays  out  on 
the  canvas  till  we  start  back  from  it  in  guilty  alarm, 
beholding  in  it  the  faithful  picture  of  our  own  souls 
as  they  appear  in  the  sight  of  God. 

2.  We  now  pass  to  the  second  main  object  of  the 
epistle,  which  is  to  shut  men  up  to  faith  in  Christ  as 
the  way  of  salvation.  This  topic,  together  with  the 
many  subordinate  discussions,  and  beautiful  threads 
of  thought  and  sentiment  interwoven  all  along,  occu- 
pies more  than  eight  chapters,  reaching  from  near  the 
close  of  the  third  to  the  end  of  the  eleventh.  It 
presents  the  remedy  for  the  disease  just  pointed  out ; 
and  the  space  devoted  to  the  prescription  shows  how 
much  more  the  apostle  was  bent  on  rescuing  men  than 
on  merely  convincing  them  of  their  guilt.  Having 
begotten  in  them  a  consciousness  of  their  lost  and 
miserable  state,  he  proceeds  to  answer  the  question 
which  it  is  natural  that  each  one  of  them  should  raise, 
—  "  How  shall  I  escape  from  the  body  of  this  death  ?  " 
In  what  way  shall  apostate  man  be  brought  back  to 
God?     He  does  not  go  into  an  examination  of  the 


EPISTLE    TO   THE   ROMANS.  41 

Pagan  worships,  to  show  their  inadequacy  for  this 
purpose,  since  most  of  his  readers  were  already 
guarded  in  that  direction  ;  but  taking  up  the  Jewish 
worship,  and  the  systems  of  morality,  he  shows  that 
in  these  no  justifying  power  can  be  found  for  the 
sinner.  First,  we  behold  the  self-righteous  Pharisee 
—  a  picture  for  which  the  young  man  Saul,  the  pupil 
of  Gamaliel,  evidently  sat  —  going  about  to  establish 
himself  in  favor  with  God.  The  apostle  does  not 
allow  him  any  rest  in  his  legalism,  but  chases  him 
from  one  hiding-place  to  another,  showing  him  that 
he  has  misunderstood  the  Mosaic  sacrifices,  which 
were  only  a  foreshadowing  of  Christ  crucified ;  point- 
ing out  the  unfitness  of  any  mere  ceremonies  to  please 
a  holy  God  ;  proving  that  Abraham  was  not  justified 
by  the  works  of  the  law ;  confronting  the  deluded 
formalist  with  his  many  shortcomings;  showing  the 
righteous  man  that  his  very  righteousness  is  full  of 
sin,  that  there  is  a  burden  of  past  transgressions 
resting  upon  him,  and  that  he  has  an  evil  nature 
rooting  back  into  the  progenitor  of  the  race.  He  de- 
scribes, in  language  that  burns  and  flames,  the  strug- 
gle between  the  lower  and  higher  nature  in  the  soul 
of  the  moralist.  That  poor  man  is  resolved  to  live  a 
perfect  life,  but  though  the  spirit  is  willing  the  flesh 
is  weak.  When  he  would  do  good,  evil  is  present 
with  him.  Notwithstanding  all  his  strivings  and  cau- 
tions, his  life  does  not  come  up  to  the  moral  stand- 
ard ;  and  the  consciousness  of  failure  discourages  and 
maddens  him,  so  that  the  law  becomes  to  him  the 
minister  of  sin.  His  high  resolve,  though  ordained 
unto  life,  tends  only  to  despair,  apathy,  and  death. 
This  ever-failing  effort  is  depicted  in  the  sixth  chap- 
ter, and  nearly  through  the  seventh ;  when  the  exult- 


42  SERMONS. 

ant  writer,  having  swept  away  all  the  theories  of 
creature-merit  and  self-redemption,  looks  up  out  of 
the  tumbling  wreck  he  has  made,  and  exclaims,  "I 
thank  God  for  deliverance  through  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ."  The  great  thing  and  the  only  thing  for  us 
to  do,  in  order  that  we  may  be  restored  to  the  embraces 
of  the  Father,  is  to  trust  ourselves  unquestioningiy 
in  the  hands  of  Christ.  Oh,  how  the  apostle's  soul 
mounts  aloft,  after  bringing  his  readers  to  this  glo- 
rious truth !  It  is  the  heaven-piercing  summit  of  his 
mighty  argument,  over  which  he  hovers,  and  round 
which  he  circles  and  sails,  brushing  against  it  with 
ardent  wing,  reposing  himself  upon  it,  and  wearing 
its  splendors  through  all  that  he  has  to  say  of  guilt, 
the  law,  conflicts,  unfaithful  Israel,  the  election  of 
God,  and  a  holy  life.  The  eighth  chapter,  in  which 
he  pours  forth  his  gladness  and  thanksgivings,  is  an 
unparalleled  specimen  of  fervid  and  soaring  eloquence. 
How  calm,  yet  triumphing,  the  opening  sentence !  — 
"  There  is  therefore  now  no  condemnation  to  them 
which  are  in  Christ  Jesus,  who  walk  not  after  the 
flesh,  but  after  the  spirit ;  for  the  law  of  the  spirit  of 
life  in  Christ  Jesus  hath  made  me  free  from  the  law 
of  sin  and  death."  "  Hath  made  me  free  "  is  the 
glorious  thought  which  swells  and  resounds  through- 
out the  chapter.  The  remembrance  of  that  blessed 
relief,  which  rolled  into  his  soul  like  sweet  waters 
when  he  found  himself  in  the  keeping  of  Christ,  is  so 
mighty  that  it  throws  him  off  his  guard.  He  cannot 
hide  his  personality  while  such  recollections  are  heav- 
ing his  breast.  Swimming  in  the  tide  of  this  delicious 
excitement,  he  forgets  his  more  general  purpose  ;  and 
we  behold  the  new-born  disciple,  in  the  moment  when 
there  fell  as  it  were    scales  from  his  eyes,  standing 


EPISTLE    TO    THE   ROMANS,  43 

before  us  in  all  the  simplicity  of  a  babe  in  Christ,  and 
declaring  what  God  has  done  for  his  soul.  Once  he 
roamed,  and  was  tossed  about  on  the  dark  ocean  of 
guilt.  He  had  tried  morality,  he  tried  conformity  to 
the  Mosaic  rites ;  but  they  brought  no  safety :  the 
storm  still  buffeted  him,  and  he  could  find  no  way  to  a 
landing-place.  But  at  length  he  found  Christ,  who  is 
the  end  of  the  law  for  righteousness  to  every  one  that 
belie veth.  He  heard  that  voice  —  so  thrilling  and  ten- 
der —  saying,  "  Come  unto  Me,  I  will  give  you  rest." 
Have  no  more  concern  about  your  peace  with  God,  but 
leave  it  all  to  me.  Accept  me  for  your  Saviour,  to  de- 
liver you  from  punislunent,  and  from  your  fears  and 
sins,  and  to  restore  you,  a  purified  soul,  to  the  arms  of 
the  Holy  One.  This  was  just  the  aid  that  Paul  needed. 
It  was  a  peaceful  harbor,  close  beside  him,  in  which  he 
might  moor  his  failing  bark.  He  gave  over  the  idea 
of  self-help ;  and,  trusting  himself  utterly  and  forever 
in  Christ's  hands,  he  ceased  to  strive.  He  reposed  his 
weary  heart  on  that  gentle  bosom.  He  gave  himseK  up 
to  those  blissful  emotions  which  naturally  arose  while 
feeling  that  all  his  care  had  been  cast  on  a  divine 
Eedeemer.  Nothing  but  his  own  lofty  utterances  can 
describe  the  joy  of  his  soul :  "  Who  shall  separate  us 
from  the  love  of  Christ  ?  Shall  tribulation,  or  distress, 
or  persecution,  or  famine,  or  nakedness,  or  sword? 
As  it  is  written,  For  thy  sake  we  are  killed  all  the 
day  long ;  we  are  accounted  as  sheep  for  the  slaugh- 
ter. Nay,  in  all  these  things  we  are  more  than  con- 
querors through  Him  that  loved  us.  For  I  am  per- 
suaded, that  neither  death  nor  life,  nor  angels  nor 
principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  present  nor 
things  to  come,  nor  height  nor  depth,  nor  any  other 
creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of 
God  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord." 


44  SERMONS. 

3.  The  remainder  of  the  epistle,  excepting  the  salu- 
tations in  the  last  chapter,  is  devoted  to  the  inculca- 
tion of  the  Christian  virtues.  And  it  is  important, 
especially  for  those  who  object  to  the  doctrine  of  gratu- 
itous salvation,  to  see  how  Paul  grafts  these  virtues 
into  the  very  act  of  faith  in  Christ.  So  far  from 
granting  us  any  hcense,  as  though  we  might  be  care- 
less about  our  morals  since  Christ  is  our  Saviour,  he 
no  sooner  ends  the  exultant  narrative  of  his  justifica- 
tion by  faith  than  he  calls  out,  "•  I  beseech  you  there- 
fore, brethren,  by  the  mercies  of  God,  that  ye  present 
your  bodies  a  living  sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable  unto 
God,  which  is  your  reasonable  service."  It  does  not 
occur  to  him  that  there  is  any  conflict  between  his 
doctrine  of  faith  and  a  holy  life.  He  passes  from 
one  to  the  other  with  a  simple  "  therefore,"  unaware 
of  abruptness,  perceiving  no  antagonism  or  incongru- 
ity. The  stream  of  thought  flows  on  uninterruptedly, 
—  from  conviction  of  sin  to  faith  in  Christ,  and  from 
faith  to  good  works.  ''  Ye  were  once  apostate  from 
God.  A  deep  gulf  lay  between  you  and  Him,  and 
you  found  no  way  of  reaching  His  side.  But  Christ, 
the  great  Mediator,  —  who  bridges  the  chasm  and 
destroys  the  enmity,  —  has  now  taken  you  into  His 
keeping.  Trusting  yourselves  utterly  to  Him,  you 
have  no  further  care  respecting  your  destiny ;  but 
may  calmly  wait  the  revelations  of  the  future,  knowing 
that  He  will  present  you  faultless  before  His  Father. 
Therefore  be  not  worldly,  but  of  a  heavenly  mind  ; 
show  in  all  your  conduct  what  is  the  perfect  will  of 
God ;  think  soberly,  each  one,  of  his  personal  impor- 
tance ;  find  out  and  perform  the  special  Christian 
labor  to  which  the  Master  has  assigned  you  ;  be  under 
the  control  of  a  steady  and  undissembled  love ;  dili- 


EPISTLE    TO    THE   ROMANS.  45 

gent,  fervent,  hopeful,  patient,  beneficent,  forgiving, 
sympathetic,  forbearing,  lovers  of  peace,  honorable, 
humble,  unresentful,  overcoming  evil  with  good ;  re- 
spect the  civil  authority,  so  far  as  it  is  the  minister  of 
God ;  have  that  universal  love  out  of  which  all  the 
specific  Christian  graces  spring  ;  deny  yourselves,  even 
where  your  own  conscience  does  not  urge  to  the  sacri- 
fice, rather  than  be  a  stumbling-block  to  some  weaker 
brother  ;  remember  that  it  is  the  duty  of  the  strong, 
not  to  please  themselves,  but  to  help  the  weak ;  pray 
without  ceasing,  —  for  me,  for  one  another,  and  for  all 
men."  Faith,  then,  —  that  faith  which  Paul  recom- 
mends, and  which  puts  the  soul  in  the  keeping  of 
Christ  its  Saviour,  —  is  not  an  unworking  sentiment, 
but  includes  in  it  all  that  is  holy  and  beautiful  in 
character.  When  a  child  has  wandered  off  into  the 
wilderness  and  is  lost;  when,  having  yielded  to  de- 
spair after  repeated  but  fruitless  endeavors  to  find  the 
way  home,  it  ^t  length  hears  a  mother's  voice  echoing 
through  the  gloomy  forest,  —  if  that  child  is  really  sick 
of  its  roaming,  if  it  truly  longs  to  return,  and  in  sin- 
cerity yields  itself  to  that  loving  call,  —  earnestness 
and  action  possess  it  at  once.  It  does  not  lie  stiU, 
carelessly  saying,  "  I  have  faith  in  my  mother ;  she 
will  save  me,  and  therefore  I  need  do  nothing."  He 
starts  up  straightway,  answers  the  voice,  ascertains  its 
direction,  and  presses  eagerly  toward  it.  Just  so  it 
was  with  the  great  apostle  ;  and  so  it  is  with  all  who 
sincerely  trust  in  Jesus.  We  have  strayed,  like  lost 
sheep,  into  the  wilderness  of  the  world.  The  Holy 
Ghost  comes,  startling  us  from  our  lethargy,  and 
showing  us  that  we  are  lost  wanderers  ;  and  then  it  is 
that  we  turn  to  morality,  and  to  the  external  forms 
and  duties  of  religion,  for  peace  with  God.     But  these 


46  SERMONS. 

have  no  power  to  rescue  us ;  they  only  increase  the 
dreadful  bewilderment.  Then  we  hear  the  voice  of 
the  Shepherd,  full  of  all  the  sweetness  and  pathos  of 
a  mother's  love,  borne  into  the  still  depths  of  the 
woods,  and  saying,  "  Fear  not ;  I  am  thy  righteous- 
ness ;  trust  all  to  Me,  and  I  will  bring  thee  home." 
And  if  we  heartily  believe  in  that  Saviour,  we  do  not 
indolently  stay  where  we  are,  but  rise  up,  exclaiming 
eagerly,  "Lord,  show  us  the  way,  that  we  walk  in  it." 
Our  faith  causes  us  to  follow  after  Him,  and  He  goes 
on  before  us  ;  and  though  we  see  Him  not,  yet  we  hear 
Him,  bidding  us  do  this  and  refrain  from  that ;  and 
these  commandments  are  the  way  along  which  He 
leads  us  to  our  Father's  house.  The  path  is  very 
various  in  its  appearance,  not  direct  though  strait  and 
narrow,  turning  now  hither  and  now  thither,  yet  always 
leading  heavenward.  Here  is  the  path  of  Humility, 
and  out  of  that  we  go  into  one  which  bears  the  name 
of  Self-sacrifice  ;  and  beyond  that  is  the  way  of  Well- 
doing ;  and  then  come  such  as  Family  Prayer,  Hon- 
esty in  Business,  Liberality,  Charity,  a  Meek  and 
Quiet  Spirit,  Secret  Devotion,  Meditation,  Study  of 
God's  Word,  Keeping  the  Covenant,  Adorning  the 
Doctrine  of  our  Saviour.  These  are  the  titles,  set  up  at 
the  entrances  and  corners  all  the  way  ;  and  if  we  have 
that  faith  which  puts  us  in  Christ's  keeping,  we  shall 
not  shrink  at  any  stage  of  the  journey,  however  steep, 
or  slippery,  or  dismal  it  may  seem :  we  shall  hear  the 
voice  of  one  behind  us,  speaking  to  us  and  saying, 
"  This  is  the  way,  walk  ye  in  it ; "  and  we  shall  follow 
hard  after  the  divine  Pattern  who  has  gone  before 
us,  till  at  length  that  very  faith,  which  led  us  to  con- 
fide everything  to  the  Redeemer,  shall  develop  in  our 
life  whatsoever   is   honest  and   lovely  and  of   good 


EPISTLE    TO   THE   ROMANS.  47 

report,  and  if  there  be  any  virtue  or  any  praise.  As 
I  contemplate  the  experience  of  the  noble  apostle, 
which  is  the  substance  and  soul  of  this  epistle,  it  seems 
to  me  like  some  fair  and  thrifty  tree,  —  erect,  crowned 
with  a  broad  coronal  of,  green,  and  loaded  with  golden 
fruitage.  In  the  first  three  (chapters  we  discover  its 
root,  which  is  the  awful  sense  of  guilt,  wide-spreading 
and  thrust  far  down  into  the  soil  of  conscience  ;  out 
of  this,  not  arbitrarily,  but  by  the  beautiful  force  of 
nature,  springs  the  living  trunk  of  faith  in  a  crucified 
Redeemer ;  and  as  the  root,  which  was  penitence,  un- 
folded into  the  trunk,  which  w^as  faith,  so  faith,  by 
the  same  blessed  necessity,  spreads  out  into  an  ample, 
and  leafy,  and  fruit-laden  covering,  —  the  glorious 
canopy  of  a  holy  life  made  up  of  all*  the  virtues  and 
graces  that  are  possible  to  a  human  soul.  The  struc- 
ture is  threefold  in  its  forms  of  development,  and  yet 
it  is  a  single  organism,  dependent  on  a  single  life,  from 
the  lowest  rootlet  to  the  utmost  and  topmost  branch. 
It  is  all  wrapped  up  in  the  feeling  of  penitence,  like 
the  oak  in  the  acorn,  or  like  the  flower  in  the  seed. 
The  conviction  of  sin,  self-condemnation,  a  heart- 
crushing  sense  of  guilt  in  the  sight  of  God,  is  the  one 
essential  thing.  From  this  our  religious  experience 
must  spring,  or  it  can  never  put  on  a  glorious  matu- 
rity. It  is  almost  useless  to  preach  Christ  crucified,  or 
to  inculcate  the  moral  and  religious  virtues,  wdiere  this 
foundation  —  a  broken  and  contrite  spirit  —  has  not 
been  laid.  But  when  He,  whose  office  it  is  to  convince 
of  sin,  righteousness,  and  judgment  to  come,  —  when 
He  opens  the  closed  eye  of  the  soul,  and  draws  around 
it  in  distinct  outline  the  claims  of  the  law  of  God,  till 
we  discover  our  helplessness,  and  begin  to  sink,  like 
Simon  Peter,  in  the  tempestuous  sea  of  guilt,  —  then, 


48  SERMONS. 

if  we  can  discern  tlie  form  of  Christ  coming  toward 
us  walking  on  the  stormy  billows,  it  is  easy  enough 
for  our  despair  to  change  into  absolute  faith.  And 
when  He  has  stilled  the  tempest,  and  taken  us  in 
charge,  and  assured  us  that  we  have  nothing  more 
to  be  anxious  about ;  that  He  will  see  us  moored  at 
length  in  the  haven  of  eternal  rest,  —  then  we  are  His 
to  command,  His  to  send  whithersoever  He  will.  His 
to  bear  such  burdens  as  He  may  be  pleased  to  lay 
upon  us :  and  we  would  rather  that  our  right  hand 
should  forget  its  cunning,  and  our  tongue  cleave  unto 
the  roof  of  our  mouth,  —  rather  that  our  heart  should 
cease  its  beating,  and  we  be  laid  under  the  clods  of 
the  valley,  —  than  that  we  shoidd  ever  shrink  from  the 
least  of  our  obligations,  or  stain  His  name  with  the 
slightest  dishonor. 


THE   SUFFERING   SAVIOUR. 

It  pleased  the  Lord  to  bruise  Him.  —  Isaiah  liii.  10. 

The  prophetic  book  in  ^yhich  these  words  are  writ- 
ten is  admitted  to  be  Messianic.  It  foretells  the  suf- 
ferings and  the  glories  of  that  coming  Deliverer,  the 
vision  of  whose  kinjjdom  had  been  the  solace  of  God's 
people  in  all  ages  of  the  world.  The  personage  here 
spoken  of  is  that  seed  of  the  woman  which  should 
bruise  the  serpent's  head  :  to  Him  Eve  referred  when 
she  exclaimed  with  rapture,  "I  have  gotten  a  man 
from  the  Lord."  The  bow  in  the  cloud,  assuring 
Noah  that  the  world  should  not  again  be  drowned, 
was  the  spnbol  of  His  peacefid  reign.  When  God 
spoke  to  Abraham  in  Mount  Moriah,  saying,  "  Lay 
not  thine  hand  on  the  lad,"  the  patriarch  knew  that 
his  son  Isaac  escaped  by  the  procuring  of  another 
victim.  "  The  Lord  will  provide,"  was  his  grateful 
exclamation.  And  the  ram  caught  in  the  thicket 
was  a  type  of  the  great  sacrifice  that  should  be  offered 
once  for  all.  The  coming  Deliverer,  whom  the  text 
introduces  to  us  as  a  bruised  victim,  is  the  same  who 
went  with  the  Israelites  through  the  desert  in  His 
pillar  of  cloud  and  fire  ;  is  that  mighty  Potentate 
whom  the  Psalmist  repeatedly  extols,  now  as  the  Son 
that  should  have  the  heathen  for  His  inheritance, 
now  as  the  God  whose  throne  is  forever  and  ever, 
always  as  a  sovereign  King,  whose  sceptre  was  a 
sceptre  of  righteousness,  who  had  been  anointed  with 


50  SERMONS. 

the  oil  of  gladness  above  His  fellows,  who  should 
thresh  the  heathen  in  His  indignation,  to  whom  every 
knee  should  bow,  and  of  whose  government  there 
should  be  no  end. 

But  in  the  scripture  before  us,  all  this  regal  splen- 
dor is  wanting.  The  promised  Messiah,  laying  aside 
His  royal  robes  and  the  insignia  of  dominion,  apjDears 
as  "•  the  Man  of  sorrows,  and  acquainted  with  grief." 
He  is  the  despised  and  rejected  One.  Those  whom  He 
comes  to  save  hide  their  faces  from  Him.  His  visage 
is  more  marred  than  any  man's.  And  that  no  bitter 
ingredient  may  be  wanting  in  the  full  cup  of  suffer- 
ing which  He  drinks,  it  is  declared  that  God  afflicts 
Him ;  and  not  only  that,  but  that  ''  it  pleased  the  Lord 
to  bruise  Him."  The  suffering  Saviour  is  therefore 
offered  to  us,  in  this  scripture,  as  a  theme  for  our 
meditations.  And  we  shall  be  able  to  comprehend 
the  meaning  of  the  scripture  somewhat,  perhaps,  if 
we  consider  Christ's  sufferings  under  three  heads ; 
namely,  the  fact,  its  wonderfulness,  and  the  explana- 
tion of  it. 

First,  as  to  the  fact :  the  force,  as  shown  by  re- 
corded history,  of  the  fact  that  Christ  suffered.  Un- 
doubtedly this  suffering  had  in  it  elements  which  we 
cannot  fully  know  ;  divine  elements  inappreciable  to 
human  sense,  holy  elements  inappreciable  to  beings 
yet  unholy.  There  is  in  all  divine  experiences  some- 
thing which  our  minds  cannot  fully  comprehend. 
''The  love  of  God  passeth  knowledge."  And  when 
we  speak  of  the  divine  nature  as  "  suffering,"  it  can- 
not be  such  suffering  as  we  often  experience,  but  such 
as  consists  with  God's  own  immutable  blessedness,  — 
the  suffering  of  infinite  love  and  power,  and  therefore 
purely  moral  and  voluntary  in  its  nature,  so  that  there 


THE   SUFFERING   SAVIOUR.  61 

may  be  in  it,  even  while  it  does  not  cease  to  be  suf- 
fering, an  unspeakable  joy  and  pleasure.  Sucli  was 
Christ's  suffering  ;  a  suffering  full  of  divine  blessed- 
ness, yet  bearing  down  with  its  weight  the  poor  hu- 
manity He  took,  so  that  no  sorrow  could  be  like  His 
sorrow.  This  bruising  wliich  He  underwent,  we  may 
know  only  in  part. 

It  began  with  His  appearance  in  the  flesh ;  nay, 
before  that,  for  He  is  "  the  Lamb  slain  from  the  foun- 
dation of  the  world ;  "  and  it  continued  through  all 
His  life  in  the  flesh,  not  growing  less  but  greater  and 
intenser,  even  to  the  last  bitter  hour  on  Calvary  ;  and 
an  apostle  intimates  that  even  now,  though  exalted, 
He  is  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities.  His 
throne  is  still  but  the  throne  of  a  mediatorial  king"- 
dom  ;  and  mediation  between  sin  and  holiness  cannot 
be  real  save  as  it  involves  suffering.  But  we  need 
not  go  back  to  the  ages  before  the  incarnation,  nor 
strive  to  peer  within  the  veil  where  our  great  High 
Priest  is  now  entered  for  us.  There  is  enough,  and 
more  than  enough,  in  the  lot  which  Christ  bore  while 
in  the  flesh,  to  make  good  the  prophetic  picture  of 
Him  as  the  bruised  and  forsaken  Man  of  grief. 

The  circumstances  of  His  birth,  —  among  strangers, 
at  a  public  inn,  while  His  parents  were  on  a  journey, 
objects  of  idle  curiosity,  no  doubt  also  of  pity  and  of 
scorn  ;  poor  people,  not  admitted  among  the  better- 
conditioned  guests,  but  sheltered  with  the  feeding 
oxen,  —  here,  at  His  very  entrance  on  life,  was  some- 
thing of  the  nature  of  calamity  ;  a  despised  and  un- 
friended lot,  such  as  no  man  would  choose  for  the 
hour  of  his  nativity.  I  am  sure  that  any  one  here, 
looking  back  on  such  scenes  at  his  birth,  would  be 
saddened.     Yet  this  is  not  the  darkest  ingredient  in 


52  SERMONS. 

the  cloud  of  sorrow  that  overspread  Christ's  infancy. 
Nor  was  the  flight  into  Egypt,  and  the  sojourning 
there  in  lowly  obscurity,  what  especially  marked  His 
first  years  as  troubled  beyond  the  common  lot.  He 
could  not  think  of  those  years  without  remembering 
the  infants  whom  Herod  had  slain  on  His  account,  — 
"  all  the  children  in  Bethlehem,  and  in  all  the  coasts 
thereof,  from  two  years  old  and  under."  Possibly  it 
was  the  remembrance  of  this  slaughter,  this  martyr- 
dom of  the  innocents  for  His  sake,  that  made  Him  so 
especially  tender  toward  little  children  through  life  ; 
taking  them  up  in  His  arms,  blessing  them,  saying  that 
of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and  that  it  were 
better  to  be  drowned  in  the  sea  than  offend  one  such. 
Surely,  we  anticipate,  the  life  on  whose  beginning 
such  a  cloud  rested  ought  to  brighten  as  it  wears  on. 
But  no,  the  gloom  deepens.  And  so  far  from  any 
silver  lining,  to  be  turned  out  to  view  after  a  while,  it 
is  surcharged  with  tempestuous  elements,  which  gather 
volume  steadily  till  at  last  they  burst  forth  in  over- 
whelming fury  on  that  devoted  head.  He  seems  not 
to  have  lived  in  any  near  and  comforting  sympathy 
with  His  own  family.  Notwithstanding  the  words 
which  the  angel  spoke  to  Mary,  and  Joseph's  dream, 
they  were  too  human,  too  much  like  us,  to  follow  their 
child  with  unwavering  and  loyal  hearts,  while  He  dis- 
appointed all  their  little  plans  concerning  Him,  and 
went  about  "  His  Father's  business."  Not  only  was  it 
His  lot  to  pursue  a  course  which  thus  alienated  His 
nearest  kindred,  but  He  must  make  himself  an  object 
of  wrath  to  His  neighbors  among  whom  He  had  been 
brought  up.  He  was  so  much  disliked  by  them  that 
they  sought  His  life  on  the  Sabbath  day  when  He  ven- 
tured to  announce  Himself  to  them  as  the  predicted 


THE   SUFFERING  SAVIOUR.  53 

Messiah  ;  and  He  went  and  dwelt  in  Capernaum,  being 
without  honor  in  His  own  country.  And  this  turning 
against  Hiin  of  His  kindred  and  neighbors  was  not  so 
painful  as  soon  befell  Him  on  a  broader  scale.  The 
whole  nation  of  the  Jews,  so  far  as  it  had  any  influence 
or  authority,  rejected  Him,  and  counted  Him  an  enemy. 
None  but  the  outcast  classes,  and  a  few  friends  chosen 
from  humble  life,  clung  to  Him  amid  the  oppositions 
of  the  great.  And  even  these  were  swerved  from  their 
allegiance  by  the  drift  of  open  hostility ;  discij^les  not 
daring  to  reply  to  the  false  accusations  of  the  Phari- 
sees, one  denying  Him,  another  betraying  Him,  all 
forsaking  Him  in  the  bitter  hour  when  His  hard  lot 
drew  to  its  climax  in  the  garden  and  judgment  hall, 
and  beneath  the  weight  of  His  own  cross  in  the  way 
to  Calvary. 

We  all  know  the  story  of  His  bruising,  so  that  it 
need  not  be  here  recounted  any  further.  And  besides 
this  more  manifest  suffering,  which  came  on  Him  from 
without,  was  that  inward  pain  of  the  spirit,  bitterest 
of  all,  which  consisted  in  His  bearing  our  sins,  and 
carrj^ing  our  sorrows  on  His  heart  of  infinite  love. 
Christ  so  entered  into  our  humanity  as  to  be  our 
Brother,  —  the  perfect  and  sinless  Brother  of  all  the 
world.  That  brotherliness  in  Him  must  needs  have 
caused  that  our  guilt  and  woe  should  be  to  Him  a 
source  of  infinite  anguish.  They  are  His  brethren, 
and  He  is  not  ashamed  to  call  them  such,  who  have 
broken  the  laws  of  God,  who  are  living  and  rioting  in 
that  sin  which  God  abhors.  It  is  in  their  behalf,  His 
tender  relationship  to  them  bringing  the  awful  load  of 
their  shame  on  His  divine  heart,  that  He  answers  to 
eternal  justice,  and  meets  the  condemnation  launched 
against  them.     This  brotherliness,  this  oneness  with 


54  SERMONS. 

all  sinners,  so  tliat  tlieir  sliame  became  His  shame,  was 
more  than  everything  outward  which  embittered  His 
lot.  This  made  His  soul  exceeding  sorrowful  even 
unto  death ;  this  caused  Him  to  sweat  great  drops  of 
blood  in  the  agony  that  bowed  Him  to  the  ground. 
Comprehending  this  relation  of  Christ  to  us  as  a 
brother,  and  knowing  how  vividly  conscious  He  was  of 
being  one  with  us  in  all  our  sorrows  and  sins,  we  be- 
gin to  see  that  no  other  bruising  could  be  like  that 
which  it  pleased  God  to  inflict  on  Him.  This  being 
the  brother  of  a  rebellious  race,  and  confessing  him- 
self such  while  He  is  without  sin,  is  what  singles  out 
Christ,  from  all  that  have  ever  lived  on  the  earth,  as 
peculiarly  the  burdened,  and  bruised,  and  rejected,  and 
stricken  One.  As  of  His  love,  so  of  His  suffering  we 
may  say  that  in  the  length  and  breadth  and  height" 
thereof,  it  passeth  knowledge.  But  this  is  not  the 
whole  of  the  fact  we  are  called  to  contemplate.  This 
bruising,  such  as  none  other  ever  endured,  is  traced  to 
God's  agency :  "It  pleased  the  Lord  to  bruise  Him." 
Not  that  Christ  suffered  against  His  own  will.  He 
freely  chose  to  bear  the  chastisement  of  our  peace. 
He  laid  down  His  life  of  Himself.  That  Christ  suffered 
freely  in  our  behalf,  because  He  wished  to,  is  clear 
from  the  nature  of  the  suffering.  That  suffering 
consisted  peculiarly  in  His  sympathy  with  us  as  our 
Brother ;  and  such  sympathy  is  always  one's  own  act, 
it  cannot  be  put  upon  him  by  the  act  of  another.  Yet 
His  choosing  to  be  bruised  does  not  exclude  the  agency 
of  the  Father.  The  sword  awaketh  against  his  fellow, 
and  smiteth  the  good  Shepherd  who  giveth  His  life 
for  the  sheep.  Accordingly,  all  the  wrath  of  Christ's 
foes,  and  their  mocking  and  crucifying  Him,  are  said 
to  be  in  fulfillment  of  the  Father's  will.    Peter,  preach- 


THE   SUFFERING   SAVIOUR.  55 

ing  to  the  multitude  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  said, 
''  Hiui,  being  delivered  by  the  determinate  counsel 
and  foreknowledge  of  God,  ye  have  taken,  and  by 
wicked  hands  have  crucified  and  slain."  And  Christ 
Himself,  in  alluding  to  His  sufferings,  connects  them 
always  with  the  divine  agency,  —  declaring  that  only 
thus  could  He  fulfill  the  prophecies  concerning  Him, 
or  finish  the  work  given  Him  by  liis  Father,  or  be  the 
Saviour  promised  from  the  beginning.  So,  then,  the 
fact  which  we  are  called  to  contemplate  is  that  of 
Christ  enduring  this  hard  lot,  and  all  this  unuttera- 
ble anguish  of  heart,  as  laid  on  Him  by  the  eternal 
purpose  and  prearrangement  of  the  Lord,  whom  it 
pleased  to  bruise  Him. 

This  brings  us  to  our  second  head,  the  wonderful- 
ness  of  the  fact  that  Christ  should  thus  suffer.  In 
dwelling  on  the  word  "  pleased,"  in  the  text,  we  should 
be  careful,  I  think,  not  to  press  its  meaning.  That  it 
really  gave  pleasure  to  God  to  inflict  pain  on  Christ, 
is  an  idea  which  the  Bible  nowhere  warrants.  The 
word  must  be  understood  as  we  often  understand  it  in 
our  intercourse  with  one  another.  A  man  may  say 
that  it  pleases  him  to  do  a  thing,  though  the  doing  it 
is  very  painful  to  him.  What  he  means  is,  that  on  the 
whole,  or  from  a  sense  of  duty,  he  chooses  to  do  it. 
Thus  it  often  pleases  a  general  to  order  his  troops  into 
battle ;  and  yet  tears  of  anguish  will  fill  his  eyes  as 
he  sees  their  line  shriveling  up  in  the  enemy's  fire. 
It  pleases  him  only  in  the  sense  that  he  decides  it  to 
be  his  duty.  We  might  say,  without  danger  of  being 
misunderstood,  that  it  pleased  the  court  to  pass  sen- 
tence of  death  on  the  prisoner.  It  was  anything  but 
a  pleasure  to  them.  They  did  it  with  a  feeling  of 
awe,  and  out  of  regard  to  the  sacredness  of  justice ; 


66  SERMONS. 

nor  is  anything  beyond  this  implied,  though  we  say 
that  "'it  pleased  them."  Only  in  some  such  way 
could  it  have  pleased  God  to  bruise  the  Messiah.  He 
decided  to  do  it;  to  let  that  Mediator,  who  stood 
ready  for  the  exigency,  go  down  into  the  condemna- 
tion which  had  passed  on  all  men.  Seeing  what  woe 
must  happen  by  sparing  Him,  and  what  holiness  and 
bliss  would  come  by  offering  Him  up.  He  chose  to 
bruise  Him.  "  It  pleased  Him ; "  ^.  e.,  he  saw  it  to  be 
fit  and  proper,  and  therefore  did  it,  against  the  yearn- 
ings of  His  Father's  heart,  ''that  He  might  be  just 
and  the  justifier  of  him  that  belie veth  in  Jesus." 

But  with  this  explanation  the  fact  is  still  wonder- 
ful. We  are  astonished  in  view  of  Christ's  sufferings, 
not  only  on  account  of  their  peculiar  nature  and  their 
vastness,  but  that  God  should  even  choose  to  let  Him 
endure  them.  There  was  in  the  Father  no  cruelty,  no 
hard-heartedness ;  yet  bow  wonderful  that  He  should 
allow  such  a  fate  to  overtake  the  Son  !  This  wonder 
will  gTow  upon  us  as  we  consider  the  following : 

1.  The  character  of  Christ.  He  was  the  Sinless 
One  ;  did  no  sin,  and  no  guile  was  found  in  His  mouth. 
Was  He  ever  angry,  filled  with  indignation  ?  Yes ; 
but  it  was  only  the  flowing  forth  of  infinite  love 
against  wickedness.  Pilate  could  find  no  fault  in  Him. 
All  his  adversaries  were  ashamed.  "  Never  man  spake 
like  this  man,"  was  the  report  of  the  officers  sent  to 
take  Him.  What  outcast,  what  enemy  was  He  not 
ready  to  befriend,  and  to  help  in  all  tenderest  and 
most  graceful  ways  ?  Of  whom  did  He  ever  complain  ? 
What  weak  soul  ever  bruise,  what  strong  man  ever 
flatter  to  his  hurt  ?  And  for  such  an  One  this  cup 
of  woe  was  mixed  ;  nor  might  it  pass  from  Him  except 
He  drink  it.     We  can  understand  why  the  imperfect, 


THE  SUFFERING   SAVIOUR.  57 

the  groveling,  the  sinful,  should  be  afflicted.  Such 
chastisement  comports  with  their  character,  and  may 
be  to  them  a  useful  discipline.  But  why  this  Man  ? 
Why  should  He,  whose  going  about  was  only  to  do 
good,  so  that  the  whole  world  was  made  sweet  by  His 
one  life,  —  why  should  He,  above  all  others,  be  put  to 
grief,  till  His  soul  was  poured  out  unto  death  ? 

2.  This  bruising  is  wonderful,  also,  as  we  think  on 
the  character  of  God.  He  is  a  God  of  love,  whom 
it  pleased  to  so  bruise  this  Holy  One.  Wonderful 
that  His  sword  should  awake  against  His  fellow; 
against  One  who  declared  His  name,  whose  meat  and 
drink  was  to  do  His  will!  This  merciful  God,  so 
gracious  to  the  disobedient  even,  forgiving  iniquity 
and  sin,  making  His  sun  to  shine  on  the  evil,  send- 
ing His  rain  on  the  unjust,  —  such  a  God  chooses 
to  afflict,  in  the  awful  manner  described,  One  who 
never  disobeyed,  who  needed  not  to  be  forgiven,  who 
was  HimseK  kind  to  the  unthankful,  and  did  good 
hoping  for  nothing  again.  Is  it  true  that  God  does 
not  willingly  afflict  nor  grieve  the  children  of  men  ? 
Could  He  endure,  with  much  long-suffering,  the  ves- 
sels of  wrath  fitted  for  destruction  ?  Was  He  so  pa- 
tient with  the  cities  of  the  plain,  hearkening  to  the 
prayer  of  Abraham  in  their  behalf  ?  Did  He  spare 
Nineveh,  the  cup  of  whose  iniquity  was  full  ?  Had 
He  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked,  but  would 
rather  that  they  should  turn  and  live  ?  Protesting  at 
the  sin  of  Israel,  and  saying,  ''  How  shall  I  give  thee 
up,  Ephraim?"  Sparing  His  people  when  they  mur- 
mured against  Him  in  the  desert ;  when  they  forgot 
Him,  and  turned  to  false  gods,  in  Canaan.  Remem- 
bering David  in  his  affliction.  All  along  from  the  be- 
ginning, in  such  various  and  affecting  ways,  repenting 


58  SERMONS. 

the  evil  He  thought  to  do,  and  doing  it  not.  How 
our  wonder  grows,  after  tracing  God's  tender  mercy 
as  manifested  toward  the  ill-deserving,  if  we  then  con- 
sider the  agony  He  permitted  to  come  upon  the  sinless 
and  Just  One !  What  a  shock  to  our  feelings,  what  a 
revulsion,  how  strangely  inconsistent,  how  out  of  keep- 
ing with  all  that  we  elsewhere  see  of  the  righteousness, 
and  pity,  and  much-enduring  mercy  of  our  God !  ''  It 
pleased  the  Lord  to  bruise  Him ;  "  to  bruise  the  holy, 
though  he  forgave  the  unholy ;  to  smite  the  Sinless, 
while  he  bore  with  the  sinning ;  to  afflict  the  Right- 
eous One  whom  He  loves,  though  sparing  the  wicked 
whom  He  abhors. 

3.  And  still  our  wonder  grows  as  we  consider  again 
the  relation  of  Christ  and  God  to  each  other  as  Father 
and  Son.  Not  only  is  it  true,  on  the  one  hand,  that 
Christ  did  no  sin,  and  on  the  other  hand  that  God  is 
love,  but  the  cord  of  affection  which  unites  God  to 
Christ  is  infinitely  more  tender  than  that  which  unites 
Him  to  the  sinful  creatures  whom  He  spares.  This 
truth  is  taught  us  all  through  the  Bible.  Though  the 
Father  so  afflicts  the  Son,  yet  He  seems  to  take  espe- 
cial care  that  we  may  have  no  cause  to  doubt  His 
supreme  love  for  the  Son.  The  angels  are  minister- 
ing spirits,  and  man  is  made  lower  than  the  angels ; 
but  not  so  Christ.  Of  Him  God  says,  *'  Thou  art  my 
Son."  And  when  He  bringeth  Him  forth.  He  saith, 
"  Let  all  the  angels  of  God  worship  Him."  When  He 
came  up  out  of  the  water,  the  testimony  of  God  to 
Him  was,  "  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am 
well  pleased."  And  to  the  same  effect  Christ  himself 
saith,  "  The  Father  loveth  the  Son,  and  hath  given  all 
things  into  His  hands."  And  again,  "No  man  know- 
eth  the  Father  but  the  Son ;  nor  any  man  the   Son 


THE   SUFFERING   SAVIOUR.  59 

save  the  Father."  That  it  was  a  thing  altogether 
wonderful  in  God  thus  to  bruise  His  Only-begotten, 
the  darling  of  his  bosom,  seems  to  be  assumed  by  Paul, 
where  He  says,  "  If  God  spared  not  His  own  Son,  but 
offered  Him  up  for  us  all,  how  shall  He  not  with  Him 
also  freely  give  us  all  things  ?  "  From  beginning  to 
end,  therefore,  we  find  only  cause  of  amazement  in 
the  afflictions  of  Christ.  The  whole  process  of  this 
bruising  confounds  us ;  it  is  just  the  opposite  of  what 
we  should  expect ;  our  wonder  is  all  the  time  increas- 
ing, as  we  follow  it  on  step  by  step.  It  was  a  dread- 
ful load  that  Christ  endured  in  becoming  our  brother 
so  as  to  bear  the  sins  of  the  world.  We  are  aston- 
ished that  any  being,  whatever  his  deserts,  should  thus 
bear  our  shame  on  his  single  heart.  How  amazing, 
then,  that  Christ,  who  deserved  only  the  rewards  of 
perfect  holiness,  should  endure  this  load !  Nay,  that 
He  should  endure  it  while  the  unholy  were  spared,  for- 
given, lovingly  entreated !  And  all  this,  too,  by  the 
eternal  purpose  and  foreknowledge  of  God,  whom  it 
pleased  thus  to  bruise  Him !  The  God  who  is  love, 
and  who  loveth  righteousness  and  hateth  iniquity,  — 
oh,  how  strange  that  He  should  not  spare  His  own  Son 
whom  He  loved,  and  who  loved  Him,  and  came  to  do 
His  will,  but  should  yield  Him  up,  out  of  His  Father's 
bosom,  to  be  despised  and  rejected,  to  be  numbered 
with  transgressors,  to  make  His  grave  with  the  wicked, 
after  being  obedient  unto  death,  even  the  death  of  the 
cross ! 

And  thus  we  come  to  the  third  head  of  our  dis- 
course. We  come  confounded  at  this  great  mystery 
of  suffering  ;  and  we  ask  eagerly,  and  with  troubled 
hearts,  how  it  can  be  explained  that  God  was  pleased 
thus  to  bruise  His  Son  ?   Why  was  He  put  to  grief  till 


60  SERMONS. 

there  was  no  sorrow  like  His  sorrow  ?  Why  was  He 
taken  from  judgment  and  brought  down  into  the  dust 
of  death,  leaving  no  one  to  declare  His  generation? 
Ah,  my  brother-men !  the  answer  is  at  hand.  His 
soul  was  made  an  offering  for  sin.  It  was  His  great 
office,  His  singular  and  sublime  work,  to  be  the  Lamb 
of  God  that  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world.  By 
Him  lost  men  were  to  have  access  unto  the  Father, 
through  a  door  which  no  man  could  shut,  in  which 
new  and  living  way  they  might  come  boldly  to  a  throne 
of  grace.  His  taking  this  load  upon  Him  and  bear- 
ing it  till  He  fulfilled  the  Father's  will,  earned  for 
Him  a  name  which  is  the  only  name  under  heaven 
given  among  men  whereby  we  must  be  saved. 

We  therefore  explain  one  wonder  by  adducing  an- 
other and  greater  wonder.  That  greater  wonder  is 
SIN,  under  which  we  all  lie  spiritually  dead  before 
God.  Great  is  the  mystery  of  godliness  ;  and  the  only 
key  to  it  is  the  greater  mystery  of  iniquity.  Won- 
derful the  story  of  our  redemption  ;  but  far  more  won- 
derful our  apostasy,  which  calls  for  that  redemption. 
In  saying  this,  I  do  but  give  you  the  testimony  of  the 
Spirit  himself.  My  brethren,  it  hath  not  yet  entered 
into  the  heart  even  of  the  holiest  man,  to  conceive 
how  dreadful  a  thing  sin  is  in  the  sight  of  God,  as  the 
Father  sees  it  and  as  the  Son  sees  it.  Are  the  suffer- 
ings of  Christ  wonderful  ?  But  of  sin  God  saith,  in 
Jeremiah,  "  A  wonderful  and  horrible  thing  is  com- 
mitted in  the  land."  No  man  has  yet  been  found  who 
could  endure  the  sight  of  his  own  guilt  when  he  saw 
it  in  the  light  in  which  it  is  seen  by  Christ  and  God. 
Adam  could  not.  He  fled  at  the  bare  hearing  of  the 
voice  of  the  Lord  among  the  trees  of  the  garden.  That 
angel  at  the  gate  of  Eden,  warning  him  away  into  the 


THE   SUFFERING    SA  VI OUR.  61 

desert,  was  but  the  word  of  God  laying  open  to  him  his 
guilty  heart.  What  are  we  to  understand  by  that  mark 
set  on  the  forehead  of  Cain,  and  the  awful  dread  of  ven- 
geance which  j)ursued  him  wherever  he  went  ?  These 
were  God's  seal  to  the  dreadful  nature  of  sin.  "  Man 
hath  sinned,"  was  the  bitter  cry  which  wailed  and 
sobbed  through  the  universe ;  and  the  direful  nature 
of  the  calamity  thus  announced  was  but  feebly  figured 
forth  in  the  garment  of  mourning  that  innnediately 
covered  every  creature  of  God.  Innocency  had  died  ; 
and  the  holy  Creator  clothed  His  children  in  sackcloth 
as  a  faint  emblem  of  that  woful  death.  The  sacred 
writers  strive,  by  all  the  powers  of  language,  to  make 
lis  comprehend  God's  awful  abhorrence  of  sin.  That 
abhorrence  is  signified  in  the  curse  pronounced  on  the 
tempter  and  the  sinning  pair,  in  the  shooting-up  of 
the  briers  and  thorns  to  mar  the  fair  face  of  the 
ground,  in  representing  death  and  all  the  evils  of  our 
earthly  lot  as  the  fruit  of  sin,  in  cutting  short  the 
term  of  human  life  with  the  declaration  that  His  spirit 
should  not  always  strive  with  man,  in  the  flood  that 
rose  over  the  sin-smitten  world  burying  its  highest 
mountains  from  His  pure  sight.  The  bondage  in 
Egypt,  the  wanderings  in  the  great  and  terrible  wil- 
derness, the  temple  service,  the  costly  sacrifices,  the 
dreadful  calamities,  the  wearisome  ceremonial  by 
which  alone  the  high-priest  even  might  approach  the 
mercy-seat  and  live,  —  all  these  things  are  a  language, 
and  they  all  struggle  together,  as  it  were  ten  thousand 
tongues  of  preternatural  eloquence,  if  by  any  means 
they  may  make  us  understand  what  is  the  length  and 
breadth  and  height  and  depth,  of  the  loathing  and 
abhorrence  which  God  hath  against  sin.  Only  a  few 
men,   the  holiest,   the   best,   such  as   God  esj)ecially 


62  SERMONS. 

favored  with  His  revelations,  have  been  permitted  to 
come  into  sympathy  with  Him  in  this  respect,  to  see 
sin  as  He  sees  it,  and  to  feel  how  horrible  a  thing  it  is. 
David  was  thus  favored  once,  and  the  revelation  was 
more  than  he  could  bear.  He  found  no  words  fearful 
enough  in  which  to  utter  his  overwhelming  sense  of 
guilt.  The  greatest  of  the  prophets,  Isaiah,  having 
for  one  moment  seen  the  Lord  of  hosts,  fell  down  in 
the  temple,  crying  out,  "  Woe  is  me,  for  I  am  a  man 
of  unclean  lips,  and  I  dwell  among  a  people  of  un- 
clean lips."  In  that  one  awful  moment,  while  the 
glory  of  God's  presence  was  shining  about  him,  sin 
appeared  as  the  one  hateful  and  horrible  thing,  the 
distilled  essence  of  all  other  evils,  whether  actual  or 
possible.  And  his  dreadful  experience  was  but  a  rep- 
etition of  that  of  Job,  the  upright  man  of  the  land  of 
the  East,  in  whom  God  so  delighted,  —  who,  when  he 
came  before  God,  saw  for  the  first  time  the  unspeak- 
able hatefulness  of  sin ;  and  then  even  he,  who  had 
stood  stoutly  up  in  his  integrity,  was  forced  to  cry, 
"  I  abhor  myself,  and  repent  in  dust  and  ashes."  In 
like  manner  Peter,  in  the  fishing-boat,  receiving  upon 
his  conscience  a  momentary  flash  from  God's  judgment 
against  sin,  could  not  stand  upright,  but  fell  down, 
and  cried,  "  Depart  from  me,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man, 
O  Lord."  And  again,  when  he  fled  from  the  Lord's 
reproving  look,  standing  as  it  were  at  God's  seat,  and 
beholding  his  fault  with  the  eye  of  infinite  purity, 
"  he  went  out  and  wept  bitterly."  So  Paul,  though 
he  was  alive  once,  that  is,  in  a  comfortable,  easy  state 
of  mind,  while  he  saw  not  his  sin  in  the  light  of  God's 
throne,  tells  us  that  when  the  commandment  came,  sin 
revived,  and  he  died.  Seeing  his  sin  as  God  saw  it, 
he  exclaimed,  "  O  wretched  man  that  I  am,  who  shall 


THE   SUFFERING   SAVIOUR.  63 

deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this  death !  "  And  that 
picture  in  the  Apocalypse,  where  the  kings  of  the 
earth,  and  the  great  men,  and  the  mighty  men  go  into 
dens  and  caves,  and  call  on  the  rocks  and  mountains 
to  cover  them,  and  hide  them  from  Him  that  sitteth  on 
the  throne,  —  that  appalling  scene  does  but  picture  to 
us  what  our  own  feelings  of  self-abhorrence  will  be 
when  we  come  to  an  adequate  conception  of  the  evil 
of  sin.  Nor  are  those  wailings  and  gnashings  of 
teeth,  the  sound  of  which  is  ever  ascending  out  of  the 
abodes  of  the  lost,  a  whit  too  terrible  to  impress  on 
our  minds,  not  the  stern  and  cruel  vengeance  of  God, 
as  some  would  try  to  believe,  but  the  real  nature  of 
sin,  whose  awful  consequences  it  is  not  in  the  power 
of  language  or  imagery  adequately  to  express. 

Here  now  we  have  at  length,  towering  up  before 
us  in  dim  but  dreadful  outline,  the  fact  which  the 
Father  and  Son  beheld.  The  fact  of  sin  rose  before 
them  like  a  great  mountain  ;  and  its  shadow  lay,  like 
a  funeral  pall,  over  all  the  world.  And  it  pleased  the 
Father  to  bruise  the  Son,  because  by  that  briusing 
the  mountain  would  be  removed,  and  be  cast  into  the 
sea.  And  here  it  is  that  we  come  at  last  to  the  expla- 
nation for  which  we  have  looked.  The  incarnation 
and  death  of  Christ  are  no  longer  a  mystery.  They 
are  explained  by  the  greater  and  darker  mystery  of 
sin.  In  view  of  the  dreadfid-  enemy  which  had 
broken  loose  among  men,  the  wonder  would  be  rather 
at  the  Father's  not  bruising  the  Son,  if  by  such  bruis- 
ing that  enemy  may  be  stopped  in  his  course,  and  for- 
ever destroyed.  How  shall  a  holy  God  not  be  pleased 
to  see  His  Son  suffer,  and  that  consenting  Son  not 
gladly  accept  the  suffering,  if  He  may  thus  sweep  this 
kingdom  of  darkness  from  the  world,  and  bring  down 


64  SERMOXS. 

to  men,  out  of  heaven  from  God,  the  New  Jerusalem, 
that  the  beauty  thereof  may  fill  the  earth  ? 

In  what  manner  it  is  that  Christ,  by  the  mystery  of 
His  suifering-,  removes  the  greater  mystery  of  sin,  I 
have  already  intimated,  but  only  intimated.  Nor  can 
I  here  set  forth  the  wonderful  process  of  our  deliver- 
ance from  sin,  except  to  say  that  the  secret  of  the 
great  esca^^e  seems  to  me  to  lie  in  the  truth  of  the 
brotherhood  of  Christ.  Our  redemption  begins  in  the 
fact  that  Christ  is  not  ashamed  to  call  us  His  breth- 
ren. He  came  in  the  likeness  of  sinful  flesh.  He  took 
our  humanity  upon  Him  ;  and  thus,  as  a  brother  in  a 
brother's  stead.  He  tasted  death  for  every  man.  His 
sympathy  was  so  perfect  that  He  bore  all  our  grief 
and  shame  on  His  one  brotherly  heart.  And  with 
that  load  of  guilt  upon  Him,  He  met  the  condemna- 
tion which  had  gone  forth  against  it,  and  in  which  He 
had  consented  with  the  Father.  This  was  the  atone- 
ment, the  obtaining  of  forgiveness  for  us  ;  the  recon- 
ciliation of  the  world  to  God,  through  Christ,  in 
whom  the  Father  was.  And  it  is  by  our  clinging  to 
Him,  as  sinning  brothers  to  their  elder  Brother  who 
has  obtained  eternal  redemption  for  them,  that  the 
power  of  an  obedient  life  which  is  in  Him  becomes 
ours  ;  by  our  clinging  to  Him  that  we  receive  the  gift 
of  the  Spirit  which  rests  upon  Him  without  measure, 
till  we  put  down  the  motions  of  sin  within  us,  and 
overcome  everything  which  opposeth  itself  to  us, 
standing  complete  in  holiness,  and  being  filled  with 
all  the  fullness  of  God. 

And  now,  my  brethren,  seeing  that  the  bruising  of 
Christ  is  not  at  all  wonderful,  but  just  what  we  might 
expect  of  Him  and  the  Father  in  their  desire  to  de- 
stroy sin,  what  manner  of  persons  ought  we  to  be  in 


THE   SUFFERING   SAVIOUR.  65 

all  holy  conversation  and  godliness  ?  Are  we,  by  our 
daily  sins,  creating  that  greater  wonder  which  ex- 
plains the  lesser  wonder  of  the  sufferings  of  Christ  ? 
Are  we,  by  continuing  in  sin,  making  ourselves  verily 
guilty  of  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ  ?  Is  it  hard 
for  us  to  comprehend  the  mystery  of  the  cross  of 
Chi'ist  ?  Who  then  shall  be  able  to  give  a  reason  for 
the  sin  we  willfully  commit,  which  sin  lifted  up  the 
cross,  and  drove  the  nails,  and  thrust  the  spear  ?  Oh, 
how  wonderful,  and  to  all  holy  beings  how  shocking, 
if,  while  claiming  to  be  members  of  that  suffering 
Saviour's  body,  we  are  not  gladly  filling  up  what  is 
behind  of  His  sufferings  ;  not  only  keeping  our  own 
souls  unspotted  from  the  world,  but  daily  presenting 
ourselves  a  living  sacrifice,  if  by  any  means  we  may 
do  something  to  rid  the  universe  of  that  mystery  of 
mysteries  which  weighed  down  the  Son  of  God  with 
agony  in  the  Garden,  and  bowed  His  royal  head  on 
Calvary,  till  the  heavens  were  dark  with  grief,  and 
bursting  rocks  testified  that  no  sorrow  could  be  like 
His  sorrow ! 


A  LAW   OF   PROGRESS. 

And  He  gave  him  none  inheritance  in  it,  no,  not  so  much  as  to  set 
his  foot  on.  —  Acts  vii.  5. 

I  WISH  to  speak,  in  this  sermon,  of  a  curious  fact 
which  pertains  to  nearly  all  human  progress  ;  the  fact, 
namely,  that  in  such  progress  there  is  a  double  move- 
ment, —  first,  a  sudden  purpose  centring  itself  some- 
where in  the  future,  and  then  a  slow  process  of  actual 
advance  up  to  that  centre.  It  is  not  absurd  or  para- 
doxical, but  strictly  accurate,  to  say  that  a  man  makes 
progress  by  first  getting  ahead  of  himself,  and  then 
catching  up  with  himself.  Nor  is  this  fact,  or  law 
governing  human  progress,  a  thing  of  recent  dis- 
covery ;  for  it  was  an  early  English  poet  who  wrote 
the  striking  and  oft-quoted  lines,  — 

"Unless  above  himself  he  can 
Erect  himself,  how  poor  a  thing  is  man !  " 

This  power  to  go  ahead  of  himself  in  purpose,  and 
then  to  overtake  himself  in  actual  achievement,  is  what 
makes  man  a  progressive  being ;  it  is  a  power  which 
distinguishes  him  from  the  lower  orders  of  creatures. 
The  two  parts  of  this  double  movement  are  alike 
necessary :  without  the  purpose  the  actual  advance  is 
never  made  ;  and  the  purpose  will  not  lift  one,  or 
draw  him  forward,  save  as  his  steady  action  moves  on 
to  overtake  it. 

Let  me  first  give  some  illustrations  of  the  fact  or 
law  now  noticed,  and  then  show  how  it  pertains  to  our 
religious  duties. 


A    LAW   OF  PROGRESS.  67 

1.  The  case  of  Abraham,  referred  to  in  our  text,  is 
in  point.  Abraham,  says  Stephen  in  his  address  to 
the  Sanhedrin,  came  out  of  the  land  of  the  Chal- 
daeans  and  dwelt  in  Charran  ;  and  from  thence,  when 
his  father  was  dead,  God  removed  him  into  this  land, 
wherein  ye  now  dwell.  "And  He  gave  him  none 
inheritance  in  it,  no,  not  so  much  as  to  set  his  foot  on  ; 
yet  He  promised  that  He  would  give  it  to  him  for  a 
possession,  and  to  his  seed  after  him,  when  as  yet  he 
had  no  child."  If  we  turn  back  to  the  history  of 
Abraham,  in  the  Book  of  Genesis,  we  shall  find  this 
statement  fully  borne  out.  He  obtained  but  the  title 
to  his  inheritance  when  he  first  went  into  Canaan. 
He  then  conceived  a  hope  and  a  purpose,  which 
planted  his  foot  far  forward  in  the  future,  but  slow 
ages  were  to  w^ear  away,  and  many  reverses  come  on 
him  and  liis  descendants,  before  that  hope  and  pur- 
pose were  fulfilled.  Abraham  came,  an  utter  stran- 
ger, while  the  Canaanite  yet  dwelt  in  the  land ;  and 
his  movements  show  that  he  fully  believed  God's 
promise  concerning  him.  He  passed  through  the  land 
to  Sichem,  near  the  place  where  our  Lord  met  the 
woman  at  the  well  more  than  two  thousand  years 
afterwards.  There  he  builded  an  altar  unto  the  Lord. 
Now  the  ancient  Hebrews  were  not  wont  to  build 
altars  on  foreign  soil.  Where  their  altars  were,  there 
were  their  homes,  and  wives,  and  little  ones,  and  there 
all  their  earthly  possessions  centred.  It  therefore 
meant  a  great  deal  to  Abraham  when  he  built  an 
altar  near  Sichem.  It  meant  that  he  looked  on  the 
land  as  his,  though  the  Canaanites  still  held  it,  though 
not  enough  of  it  to  set  foot  on  was  j^et  actuall}^  his 
own.  This  actual  state  of  things  Abraham  recognized 
at  all  times.     He  did  not  interfere  with  the  rights  of 


QS  SERMONS. 

property.  Years  afterwards,  when  SaraK  died  and 
he  sought  a  burial-place  for  her,  he  applied  to  Ephron, 
who  owned  the  spot  of  ground  wliich  he  desired, 
and  for  it  weighed  him  four  hundred  shekels  of  sil- 
ver, current  money  with  the  merchant.  Yet  there 
stood  his  altars ;  for  already,  since  erecting  the  one  at 
Sichem,  he  had  built  at  least  two  others,  —  one  at 
Bethel,  and  one  in  the  plain  of  Mamre,  which  is  in 
Hebron.  Thus  did  he  think  of  the  whole  land  as  his, 
while  as  yet  it  was  not  his.  He  was  a  stranger  and 
sojourner  in  it.  In  time  of  famine  he  left  it,  and  went 
to  live  in  Egypt.  He  built  no  city,  but  dwelt  in  tents. 
His  altars,  and  the  cave  of  Machpelah,  were  the  proofs 
of  his  strong  faith.  They  anchored  him  to  a  distant 
future.  And  so  sure  was  he  that  God  who  had  prom- 
ised him  the  possession  would  fulfill  His  promise,  that 
he  took  no  unfair  means  to  obtain  the  prize.  He  pa- 
tiently waited,  and  obeyed  God,  not  doubting  that  his 
great  hope  would  be  overtaken.  He  made  over  the 
richest  portion  of  the  land  to  his  kinsman  Lot,  rather 
than  be  at  strife  with  him.  And  when  the  life  of 
Isaac,  in  whom  his  hopes  centred,  was  threatened,  he 
did  not  seek  to  turn  aside  the  fatal  stroke.  Abraham 
never  made  haste,  or  grew  impatient,  or  murmured 
concerning  the  promise.  He  obeyed  God,  whom  he 
believed  ;  he  was  just  to  all  men,  not  seizing  the  in- 
heritance, but  calmly  waiting  till  God  should  give 
it  to  him.  His  faith  that  the  whole  of  Canaan  should 
be  his,  and  that  it  should  be  full  of  his  descendants, 
was  like  a  stronc:  hand  comincr  out  of  the  distant  fu- 
ture,  taking  hold  of  him,  and  drawing  and  guiding 
him  forward.  He  did  not  waver,  and  he  did  not 
doubt.  Though  he  died  without  the  sight,  yet  he  died 
believing.     The  first  step  toward  his  own  progress, 


A   LAW   OF  PROGRESS.  69 

and  that  of  his  nation,  having  been  taken,  he  did  not 
fall  back  from  it.  The  cord  of  faith  which  held  him, 
and  his  children  after  him,  did  not  break,  but  drew 
them  steadily  on  until  they  overtook  their  hope  and 
purpose  under  Joshua. 

2.  Another  instance  of  this  double  movement  — 
first  an  expectation  and  purpose,  and  then  a  slow  ad- 
vance till  it  is  overtaken  —  may  be  seen  in  the  history 
of  the  Israelites  after  they  had  become  a  nation.  They 
went  down  into  Egypt  in  the  days  of  Joseph,  and 
there  were  reduced  to  slavery.  Centuries  of  bondage 
blinded  them  to  their  great  future,  though  they  still 
held  together.  At  length  Moses  came,  called  to  his 
task  in  a  miraculous  manner,  to  remind  Israel  of  that 
great  hope  not  yet  overtaken.  At  first  they  would  not 
believe  him,  but  God  gradually  gave  him  their  con- 
fidence ;  and  now  we  see  that  whole  people,  as  with 
one  heart,  fired  by  a  sudden  purpose.  They  will 
achieve  liberty,  they  wiU  repossess  their  long-lost  in- 
heritance. If  there  had  been  visible  cords  stretching 
from  Canaan,  and  laying  hold  of  them  all,  they  could 
not  have  been  dra\\Ti  more  surely  than  they  were 
toward  that  land.  But  how  slow  their  progress,  and 
how  often  they  looked  backward  after  crossing  the 
Eed  Sea  !  They  had  the  weaknesses  which  we  might 
expect  from  their  life  in  Egyi^t,  and  only  the  strong 
faith  of  Moses  held  them  to  their  purpose.  But  when 
they  had  crossed  the  Jordan,  and  built  their  altars  in 
the  plain  toward  Jericho,  the  land  was  not  theirs  by 
possession.  The  deed  had  still  to  overtake  the  pur- 
pose. They  had  set  up  their  standard  far  in  advance, 
and  now  they  must  march  forward  to  it.  Joshua 
died,  the  Judges  aU  died.  There  were  many  victories 
and  many  defeats.     The  Lord  chastised  them   sorely 


TO  SERMONS. 

for  their  sins.  Samuel  and  Saul  arose  and  passed 
away ;  and  David  sat  on  the  throne  at  Jerusalem, 
before  the  achievement  had  caught  uj)  with  the  expec- 
tation. And  even  then  the  ideal  conquest  of  Canaan 
had  not  taken  place ;  for  the  Canaanite  still  dwelt  in 
the  land,  nor  did  his  idolatries  wholly  cease  out  of  it. 
The  Israelites  began  to  learn,  as  the  hope  of  the  Mes- 
siah more  clearly  dawned  on  them,  that  their  true  great- 
ness was  not  to  be  temporal  but  spiritual.  This  hope 
now  took  full  possession  of  them.  It  drew  them  on- 
ward, especially  in  their  prophets  and  other  holy  men, 
toward  a  purer  and  stronger  grasp  of  their  destiny 
under  God.  Bat  some  of  them  changed  the  nature 
of  that  coming  glory  in  their  thoughts,  so  that  they 
did  not  know  it  when  it  appeared  ;  and  hence  they 
fell  back  from  it,  and  were  weakened  and  destroyed. 
Others,  seeing  more  clearly  what  Christ  was  to  be  to 
them  and  the  world,  recognized  Him  when  He  came, 
and  were  lifted  by  Him  to  a  new  plane  of  hopes  and 
expectations,  at  sight  of  which  aU  the  past  grew  dim 
in  their  eyes. 

3.  The  American  nation  was  at  first  only  a  pur- 
pose ;  nor  has  that  purpose  even  yet  been  overtaken, 
—  we  may  doubt  if  it  ever  will  be.  "  All  men  are 
created  free  and  equal,"  was  the  mark  which  its 
founders  set  up.  But  they  knew  that  that  mark  was 
far  before  them.  They  utterly  failed  to  reach  it 
when  they  came  to  organize  the  government ;  and  so 
far  short  of  it  did  their  successors  threes3ore  years 
after  them  come,  that  it  was  ridiculed  as  impracticable 
and  visionary.  It  was  an  ideal;  and  it  may  never 
become  real  in  any  actual  sense.  But  it  is  the  goal 
and  guiding  star  of  the  nation,  standing  far  off  in  the 
future,  laying  its  line  of  light  across  all  that  was  to 


A   LAW  OF  PROGRESS.  71 

be  or  is  to  be  of  convulsion  and  bloodshed,  and  hold- 
ing up  the  hearts  of  those  who  would  make  the  last 
result  answer  to  the  first  promise.  How  Httle  time  it 
took  to  set  up  that  far-off  standard  which  has  so  fired 
the  imaginations  of  patriots !  How  slow  and  toil- 
some, amid  fierce  struggles  and  many  slips  backward, 
the  advance  toward  it!  Yet  without  the  purpose 
there  woidd  not  be  the  effort  at  achievement.  A 
nation  may  fail  to  reach  its  ideal,  but  a  nation  without 
an  ideal  can  achieve  no  progress. 

4.  If  we  descend  to  individuals,  we  see  them  mak- 
ing progress,  in  whatever  they  undertake,  by  this 
double  movement.  As  a  nurse  beo'uiles  an  unwillinof 
child  into  walking,  by  throwing  ahead  of  it  some 
bright  thing  which  it  is  tempted  to  chase  after,  so  we 
are  all  the  time  proposing  to  ourselves  objects  which 
stir  up  our  energies  to  pursue  them.  We  even 
walk  or  run  only  by  thrusting  our  foot  forward,  and 
with  that  as  a  centre  of  motion  drawing  on  our  whole 
body.  We  do  not  go  all  at  once,  nor  by  a  single 
movement ;  there  is  first  the  taking  hold  of  something 
in  advance,  and  then  the  coming  up  to  it.  The 
scholar  is  not  in  all  respects  a  scholar  when  he  first 
assimies  that  name.  He  thereby  only  declares  his 
purpose.  To  overtake  that  purpose  will  require  long 
years  of  study  and  investigation  ;  indeed,  he  can  never 
fully  overtake  it.  It  wiU  move  on  in  advance  of  him 
as  he  toils  after  it,  even  as  Alps  on  Alps  arise ;  and 
the  utmost  that  he  can  ever  know  will  only  reveal  to 
him  the  bomidless  realms  which  are  yet  unexplored. 
The  same  is  true  of  the  mechanic,  the  artist,  the  mer- 
chant, the  professional  man.  The  carpenter  looks  at 
work  which  he  did  when  he  first  took  the  name,  and 
sees  in  it  many  defects.     He  aimed  to  do  better  work, 


72  SERMONS. 

and  has  overtaken  his  aim.  The  artist,  looking  on  his 
first  rude  drawings  and  sketches,  feels  that  he  was  not 
an  artist  then  in  the  high  sense  in  which  he  after- 
wards became  one.  He  had  a  standard  far  ahead  of 
him,  from  which  came  back  an  influence  that  has  laid 
hold  of  him  and  drawn  him  forward.  The  physician, 
however  carefully  educated  for  his  work,  is  yet  a 
novice  when  he  enters  upon  it.  How  much  more  he 
learns  after  the  name  is  his  than  he  learned  before ! 
His  knowledge  of  the  human  frame,  and  of  its  dis- 
eases and  their  treatment,  is  all  the  time  increasing 
as  the  circle  of  his  experience  widens.  Oh,  what  a 
comment  it  is  on  the  incompleteness  of  our  present 
lives,  and  the  need  of  another  life  to  explain  why  God 
should  create  us  at  all,  that  just  as  soon  as  we  begin  to 
learn  how  to  do  our  work  the  infirmities  of  age  com- 
pel us  to  lay  it  aside  !  If  the  lawyer  could  retain  all 
his  first  enthusiasm,  and  have  it  at  his  command  when 
long  years  of  study  and  practice  have  made  him  a 
master  of  the  law,  what  an  advocate  he  would  be  ! 
If  the  fire  of  the  young  preacher  would  not  go  out 
after  a  little,  but  burn  on  into  his  mature  life  and  old 
age,  when  he  thoroughly  knows  the  Scriptures,  and  is 
wise  in  all  that  pertains  to  his  calling,  what  a  minister 
he  would  be  !  But  the  eye  grows  dim.  The  loosened 
fibres  of  the  flesh  do  not  respond  to  the  quick  im- 
pulses of  the  soul.  The  preacher,  balked  by  his  in- 
firmities, finds  himself  least  in  his  vocation  when  he  is 
greatest,  as  he  once  was  greatest  when  he  was  least. 
There  is  no  goal  within  the  limits  of  our  bodily  powers 
which  is  adequate  to  human  development.  These  fail 
us  just  as  we  have  learned  how  to  use  them  to  the  best 
advantage.  Our  ideal  must  lie  outside  of  them  all ; 
and  our  purpose  must  go  across  them,  laying  hold  of 


A   LAW  OF  PROGRESS.  73 

that  ideal,  and  still  lifting  us  aloft  when  heart  and 
flesh  fail.  The  objects  which  we  set  before  ourselves 
in  this  life,  and  which  develop  us  while  we  toil  toward 
them,  illustrate  a  universal  law  of  moral  and  religious 
progress ;  but  that  progress  itself  is  on  another  plane, 
and  has  other  and  loftier  ideals. 

Thus  far  we  have  been  chiefly  tracing  an  analogy ; 
let  us  now  see  what  lessons  it  reads  to  us  who  have 
duties  to  perform  toward  Christ  and  His  kingdom. 

1.  The  first  lesson  is  that  our  Christian  sanctifica- 
tion  goes  forward  by  working  toward  a  definite  point, 
which  point  represents  to  us  a  perfect  ideal  yet  to  be 
attained.  If  you  would  know  what  that  point  is,  it  is 
the  glorified  person  and  the  sinless  character  of  Christ 
our  Lord.  In  his  letter  to  the  Philippians  St.  Paul 
says :  "  Not  as  though  I  had  already  attained,  either 
were  already  perfect ;  but  I  follow  after,  if  that  I  may 
apprehend  that  for  which  also  I  am  apprehended  of 
Christ  Jesus."  To  apprehend  a  thing  is  to  seize  it,  to 
lay  hold  of  it.  The  apostle  confesses  that  he  has  not 
yet  laid  hold  of  his  ideal  of  a  perfect  Christian  man- 
hood. But  from  Christ,  in  whom  he  sees  that  ideal, 
an  influence  has  come  down  and  laid  hold  of  him,  and 
is  steadily  drawing  him  upward.  His  glorified  Lord 
became  this  ideal  to  him,  this  standard  of  attainment 
for  him  to  struggle  toward,  when  he  obeyed  the  heav- 
enly vision.  In  the  way  to  Damascus,  quick  as  the 
flash  of  light  which  smote  him  to  the  ground,  his  pur- 
pose was  formed.  He  could  not  then  fully  know 
what  it  meant,  for  he  was  in  darkness  and  confusion 
of  mind.  But  he  had  strength  to  venture  all,  even 
himself,  for  the  glory  which  had  been  suddenly  re- 
vealed to  him.  As  he  went  on,  as  he  prayed  and  med- 
itated and  labored,  his  view  of  that  toward  which  he 


74  SERMONS. 

was  struggling  became  clearer,  and  he  was  glad  to  find 
in  himself  the  evidence  that  he  steadily  drew  nearer 
to  it.  Of  himself  and  those  who  toiled  with  him  he 
could  at  all  times  say,  "  Now  is  our  salvation  nearer 
than  when  we  believed."  It  is  this  great  purpose,  not 
yet  overtaken,  which  he  seems  to  have  in  mind  when 
he  says  that  his  conversation  is  in  heaven.  He  goes 
forward  by  faith  into  a  life  of  goodness  which  is  yet 
to  be  made  actual  to  him.  The  ideal  of  Paul  is  far 
in  the  future,  and  the  real  Paid  is  pressing  forward  to 
overtake  the  ideal.  Every  earnest  Christian  is  like  a 
runner  at  the  Grecian  games.  The  mark  set  before 
him  is  a  complete  Christian  character.  If  his  soul  be 
not  full  of  yearning  for  that,  he  will  cease  to  run,  or 
will  run  amiss.  But  if  he  already  lays  hold  of  it  in 
faith,  he  will  press  toward  it,  forgetting  the  things 
behind  and  reaching  forth  unto  those  before.  His 
high  purpose,  and  his  struggle  to  reach  it,  maintained 
within  him  by  the  spirit  of  God,  will  carry  him  from 
strength  to  strength.  Those  three  thousand,  converted 
in  one  day  at  the  time  of  Pentecost,  no  doubt  had 
very  dim  visions  of  what  it  is  to  be  a  perfect  Chris- 
tian. But  they  saw  something  in  the  future  which 
drew  all  that  was  good  in  them  toward  it ;  and  as  they 
yielded  to  the  attraction  what  they  saw  grew  brighter, 
while  it  made  their  own  souls  better  and  better. 

2.  This  law  of  progress  which  we  have  considered, 
also  reads  an  important  lesson  to  those  who  are  hes- 
itating to  accept  Christ.  They  have  come  near  to  the 
kingdom  of  God  ;  but  they  refuse  to  enter  into  it,  for 
they  lack  certain  deep  convictions,  or  strong  impulses, 
or  clear  views,  which  they  feel  that  they  should  have. 
Are  there  any  such  here  present?  Dear  friends,  you 
will  never  get  any  farther  than  you  have  now  come 


A    LAW   OF  PROGRESS.  75 

till  you  take  liold  of  sometliing  beyond  yourseK.  That 
for  which  you  wait  will  not  be  yours  till  you  have 
made  Christ  yonv  Lord  and  Master.  Plant  yourself 
outside  of  your  doubts  and  fears  by  a  swift  and  hearty 
surrender  to  Him,  and  gradually  you  will  escape  from 
the  surrounding-  gloom.  That  which  you  wait  for  must 
be  the  effect  of  your  own  action.  Do  not  say  any 
longer  that  you  must  see  the  effect,  before  you  can 
make  up  your  mind  to  supply  the  cause.  Give  that 
sudden  and  brave  spring  forward  which  is  the  answer 
to  Christ's  own  blessed  invitation,  "  Come  unto  me ;  " 
and  from  this  act  of  surrender,  as  from  some  blessed 
source  far  beyond  and  above  you,  there  shall  come  to 
you  a  power  which  will  lift  you  away  from  your  fears, 
and  from  all  your  mental  confusion,  into  the  light  and 
the  peace  of  God's  own  presence.  You  may  not  find 
your  proper  orbit  all  at  once,  but  you  will  no  longer 
be  a  wandering  star.  The  Lord  your  Righteousness, 
that  glorious  centre  as  yet  but  dimly  discerned,  will 
draw  you  out  of  the  darkness  in  which  you  were  so  far 
off.  Christ  will  lead  you  to  the  rock,  higher  than 
yourself,  on  which  your  opening  eye  is  fixed.  He  will 
draw  you  as  the  magnet  draws  the  steel,  binding  you 
to  Himself  with  indissoluble  cords. 

3.  But  perhaps  you  have  in  your  heart  owned  Christ 
as  your  Lord,  and  are  trying  to  rest  in  that,  not  join- 
ing yourself  to  the  company  of  His  disciples.  Do  not 
say,  then,  that  membership  in  a  church  of  Christ  is 
nothing.  It  is  a  great  thing.  It  plants  your  foot 
forward.  It  is  another  stej)  added  to  those  you 
have  already  taken,  without  which  you  must  cease  to 
make  progress.  It  brings  new  obligations,  new  influ- 
ences and  motives,  which  you  need  to  lift  you  farther 
into  the  light.     Oh,  how  many  have  stopped  in  their 


76  SERMONS, 

religious  life  just  here  !  They  shrank  from  confessing 
Christ  openly,  and  were  left  without  any  goal  of  attain- 
ment in  the  future.  There  was  no  mark  for  them  to 
press  toward,  and  gradually  they  ceased  to  run  or 
wandered  away.  Supj^ose  that  Abraham,  when  he 
heard  what  God  was  to  do  for  him,  had  stayed  in 
Chaldsea.  He  could  not  have  become  the  man  he 
afterwards  was,  if  he  had  not  separated  himself  to 
God's  work.  It  was  his  mighty  purpose,  earnestly 
followed  in  the  strength  which  God  gave,  that  made 
him  great.  He  never  could  have  been  the  father  of 
the  faithful,  and  the  friend  of  God,  if  he  had  not 
gone  into  Canaan,  built  his  altars  there,  and  there 
pitched  his  tent  in  the  midst  of  his  flocks.  And  you 
will  remain  where  you  are  in  your  religious  life,  or 
the  rather  slide  back  from  it,  a  prey  to  doubts,  if  you 
have  no  mark  ahead  of  yourself,  toward  which  to 
press.  The  open  confession  of  Christ,  and  union  with 
His  people,  furnishes  such  a  mark.  It  is  the  next 
summit  before  you  on  your  way  to  heaven,  if  you  have 
come  througli  the  wicket-gate  by  choosing  Christ  to 
be  your  Lord  and  Master.  What  if  Israel  had  stayed 
in  Egyj)t  after  hearing  that  they  were  to  possess  Ca- 
naan ?  Then  tliey  would  have  simply  continued  to  be 
bondmen,  despite  of  the  promise.  But  they  openly 
professed  their  faith.  The  wrath  of  the  king  could 
not  withhold  them ;  and  they  braved  the  sea,  and  the 
wilderness,  with  their  eye  fixed  on  the  prize.  This 
openness,  this  venturing  in  God's  strength,  this  press- 
ing after  the  unattained,  made  them  a  powerful  and 
victorious  people.  Perhaps  you  say  that  you  are  not 
fitted  for  church-membership.  But  that  is  just  the 
argument  of  this  sermon.  The  lawyer  is  not  fitted  to 
be  a  lawyer  when  he  first  becomes  one ;  and  the  same 


A   LAW   OF  PROGRESS.  11 

is  true  of  other  callings,  in"  which  experience  alone 
can  make  one  wholly  fit  for  it.  You  need  the  mem- 
bership as  a  mark  or  goal.  To  be  sure,  it  is  ahead  of 
you ;  it  may  be  far  ahead.  But  it  is  the  measure  of 
your  purpose.  It  tells  what,  with  God's  help,  you  are 
determined  to  become.  You  cannot  apprehend  the 
prize  if  you  do  not  allow  yourself  to  be  apprehended 
for  it.  You  admire  the  character  of  St.  Paul,  dear 
friend.  You  wonder  at  his  heroic  life.  But  he  had 
this  same  question  to  meet,  over  which  you  may  stum- 
ble. What  if  he,  after  becoming  a  disciple,  had  gone 
away  into  Arabia  never  to  come  back  ?  to  stay  there, 
and  be  like  those  about  him.  never  confessino:  Christ 
or  proclaiming  the  new  faith  which  was  in  him  ?  Had 
he  taken  that  course,  a  large  part  of  our  present  New 
Testament  would  not  have  been  written.  But  we 
know  that  he  took  another  course.  He  essayed  to 
join  himself  unto  the  disciples.  And  though  they 
were  afraid  of  him  at  first,  and  would  not  receive  him, 
he  persisted  in  urging  his  case  till  he  became  one  of 
their  number.  You  may  stop  where  you  now  are, 
apart  from  the  army  which  Christ  leads ;  and  neither 
you  nor  your  friends  may  ever  know  what  energies  in 
you  are  thus  left  to  lie  dormant.  But  take  the  step, 
enter  that  army,  press  after  its  bright  standard  which 
is  ever  moving  away  upward  before  you,  and  you  shall 
find,  and  the  world  about  you  shall  confess,  that  the 
spiritual  forces  in  you,  which  were  once  no  greater 
than  a  grain  of  mustard-seed,  have  unfolded  and 
grown  till  they  are  like  a  mighty  tree  in  which  the 
birds  of  the  air  have  their  habitation. 


THE  WITNESS   OF   UNBELIEF. 

In  whom  the  god  of  this  world  hath  blinded  the  minds  of  them 
which  believe  not,  lest  the  light  of  the  glorious  gospel  of  Christ,  who 
is  the  image  of  God,  should  shine  unto  them.  —  2  CoR.  iv.  4. 

The  late  Jolin  Stuart  Mill,  famous  the  world  over 
for  his  philosophy,  did  not  recognize,  anywhere  in  aU 
his  writings,  the  existence  of  a  soul  in  man  separate 
from  the  body.  Yet  it  is  said  that  while  he  lay  dying 
he  asked  a  daughter,  who  stood  by  his  bedside,  what 
message  he  should  take  from  her  to  her  mother,  his 
beloved  wife,  who  had  died  some  years  before  him. 
Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury,  also  a  distinguished  leader 
of  the  English  deists  two  hundred  years  ago,  published 
a  work,  the  object  of  which  was  to  prove  the  impos- 
sibility of  any  special  revelation  from  God  to  men. 
Yet  he  declares  that  before  putting  that  work  into  the 
hands  of  the  printer  he  sought  divine  guidance,  and 
that  a  clear  voice,  speaking  to  him  out  of  the  sky, 
directed  him  to  go  forward  with  his  enterprise.  The 
example  of  these  two  men,  thus  witnessing  to  the 
truth  which  they  sought  to  destroy,  may  serve  to  sug- 
gest the  general  subject  which  I  propose  now  to  con- 
sider ;  namely,  the  testimony  which  unbelievers  them- 
selves furnish  in  favor  of  the  great  truths  of  a  divine 
revelation. 

The  sum  and  substance  of  the  gospel,  as  contained 
in  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  we  hold  to  be  this : 
that  mankind  have   fallen  away  from  their  original 


THE   WITNESS   OF    UNBELIEF.  79 

fellowship  with  the  true  God,  and  need  to  be  restored 
to  that  lost  communion  through  the  mediation  and 
atonement  of  Jesus  Christ.  To  this  tremendous  state- 
ment, so  emphatically  made  in  the  text,  I  hold  that 
the   infidel  world  is  to-day  a  powerful  though  unwill- 


ing witness. 


Unbelief  is  not  a  thing  by  itself,  but  simply  one  of 
the  forms  in  which  the  general  worldliness  or  ungodli- 
ness of  men  is  manifested.  All  the  moral  attributes 
of  God,  such  as  His  truth.  His  justice.  His  mercy,  and 
His  faithfulness,  are  but  the  various  forthputtings  of 
that  infinite  love  which  constitutes  His  essential  char- 
acter ;  and  so  all  the  evil  developments  of  human  life, 
such  as  ambition,  the  greed  of  gain,  crime,  vice,  pride, 
and  infidelity,  are  but  varying  manifestations  of  that 
sinful  worldliness  which  is  the  universal  curse.  Our 
noblest  instincts  confirm  all  that  the  Scriptures  teach 
respecting  the  high  origin  and  powers  of  the  human 
soul.  When  we  read  that  "  there  is  a  spirit  in  man, 
and  the  inspiration  of  the  Almighty  giveth  them 
understanding,"  the  deepest  voice  of  our  nature  says 
Amen  to  the  glorious  words.  It  is  written  on  the 
tables  of  our  hearts,  as  truly  as  in  the  first  chapter  of 
Genesis,  that  we  were  made  in  the  image  of  God. 
The  eisrhth  Psalm  reechoes  our  inmost  comactions  in 
declaring  that  God  crowned  man  wdth  glory  and  honor, 
and  set  him  over  the  work  of  His  hands.  When  St. 
Paul  tells  us  that  God  is  the  Father  of  the  spirits  of 
flesh,  a  sacred  joy  at  the  centre  of  our  being  starts  up 
responsively  to  his  words.  It  is  a  truth  of  natural 
religion,  no  less  than  of  revealed  religion,  which  St. 
Luke  proclaims  in  his  genealogy  of  Christ,  where  he 
says  that  as  Seth  was  the  son  of  Adam,  so  was  Adam 
the  son  of  God. 


80  SERMONS. 

Now  such  being  the  original  greatness  of  men,  as 
they  came  immortal  spirits  from  the  hand  of  their 
Creator,  it  follows  that  their  present  state  of  worldli- 
ness  and  unbelief  could  be  reached  only  by  some  great 
catastrophe.  There  has  been  a  terrible  falling  away 
of  the  spiritual  nature  in  mankind.  That  glorious 
spirit  was,  for  wise  reasons,  joined  to  the  flesh,  and 
subjected  to  a  probation  in  this  present  world.  In 
this  union  of  the  immortal  with  the  mortal,  however, 
the  immortal  spirit  was  placed  on  the  throne,  and  the 
mortal  body  was  to  be  its  servant,  for  all  the  high 
ends  given  it  to  accomplish  here.  That  dominion  and 
supremacy  the  soul  has  not  maintained.  It  has  abdi- 
cated its  lofty  throne.  The  tendencies  of  the  lower 
nature  have  risen  up  around  the  higher  nature,  and 
laid  hold  of  it,  and  drawn  it  down  into  a  woful  bond- 
age. It  lies  prostrate  and  dying  in  that  ignoble 
slavery,  as  we  sometimes  find  the  decayed  ruins  of  a 
noble  tree  underneath  the  rank  luxuriance  of  a  poi- 
sonous vine,  which  grew  up  around  its  lordly  stem, 
and  laid  hold  of  its  branches  one  after  another,  draw- 
ing them  gradually  downward  into  the  dust  of  death. 
This  state,  into  which  mankind  have  come  by  yielding 
to  their  lower  nature,  is  pictured  to  us  in  the  expul- 
sion of  Adam  and  Eve  from  Paradise.  The  dreadful 
spiritual  change  which  came  upon  man  was  as  if  the 
earth,  once  arrayed  in  l^eauty  and  fruitfulness,  should 
begin  to  be  covered  witli  briers  and  thorns.  How  a 
compassionate  God  felt,  in  view  of  this  great  down- 
fall and  thralldom  of  His  children,  is  taught  us  by  the 
incarnation,  sufferings,  and  intercession  of  our  Lord. 
We  see  the  awful  issue  and  rebound  of  this  spiritual 
overthrow  of  our  race  in  the  lurid  flames  of  that  bot- 
tomless pit  whose  smoke  ascendeth  up  forever.     Now 


THE  WITNESS   OF  UNBELIEF.  81 

it  is  not  the  intellectual  nature  in  men,  nor  their 
aesthetic  nature,  nor  their  affections  as  related  to  the 
intercourse  of  this  life,  which  the  Scriptures  have 
especially  in  view,  when  they  speak  in  such  awful 
terms  as  they  do  of  the  guilt  and  misery  of  men. 
The  great  calamity  which  they  bewail  is  the  separa- 
tion of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh  from  their  divine  Father, 
and  the  bondage  of  those  spirits  to  the  things  of  time 
and  sense.  True,  the  highest  capacity  in  man  cannot 
be  injured  and  his  other  powers  go  unharmed.  The 
rust  which  gathers  on  the  top  of  a  bed  of  marble 
sends  its  stain  downward  through  all  the  underlying 
whiteness.  The  flame  on  the  roof  of  a  goodly  build- 
ing, which  draws  to  itseK  the  quenching  streams  of 
water,  not  only  burns  where  it  is,  but  causes  all  the 
beauty  beneath  it  to  be  soiled  by  its  own  effects.  So 
when  man  is  maimed  and  soiled  in  his  spirit  by  de- 
parting from  God  into  the  bondage  of  the  flesh,  all 
the  lower  powers  of  his  nature  suffer.  He  is  not  so 
good  a  scientist,  speculatist,  merchant,  reformer,  neigh- 
bor, parent,  citizen,  friend,  as  he  would  have  been  had 
he  not  thus  fallen.  Yet  his  various  powers  remain  to 
him  ;  and  he  uses  them,  such  as  they  are,  in  the  various 
activities  of  the  present  life,  though  laboring  without 
reference  to  God,  and  wholly  deprived  of  that  cer- 
tainty of  being  led  into  the  truth  which  the  presence 
and  inworking  of  God  assure. 

It  is  this  want  of  divine  communion,  this  departure 
from  God  and  forgetfulness  of  Him,  which  the  Bible 
has  in  view  when  it  speaks  of  the  sinfulness  of  men. 
They  have  all  gone  out  of  the  way  ;  they  are  wander- 
ing sheep,  lost  pieces  of  silver,  prodigal  children. 
The  absence  of  God  from  the  heart,  who  alone  can 
enlighten  and  keep  it,  leaves  it  deceitful  above  all 


82  SERMONS. 

tilings,  and  desperately  wicked.  This  is  that  enmity 
of  the  carnal  heart  against  God  of  which  we  read. 
This  was  the  body  of  death  under  which  Saint  Paul 
groaned  and  cried  out  for  deliverance.  Through  this 
bondage  to  the  flesh  it  is  that  the  world  lieth  in  wicked- 
ness. This  makes  men  dead  toward  God ;  dead  in 
trespasses  and  sins ;  without  power  to  live  that  holy 
and  divine  life  for  which  they  were  created,  save  as 
they  are  delivered  from  their  bondage  back  into  the 
glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God. 

Now  this  universal  sinfulness,  ungodliness,  worldli- 
ness,  or  whatever  we  please  to  call  it,  is  shown  around 
us  in  almost  endless  forms.  The  infidelities  of  the 
day  cannot  escape  our  classification ;  they,  too,  are 
forms  of  the  general  world liness ;  and  they  bear  wit- 
ness, as  clearly  as  all  other  forms  of  wickedness,  that 
the  teachings  of  God's  word  and  the  deeper  instincts 
of  our  hearts  are  true.  I  call  them  to  the  stand,  and 
force  them  to  give  in  their  testimony,  just  as  con- 
fidently as  I  call  up  the  commonest  sins  of  the  street. 
Look  on  that  murderer  in  yonder  prison,  whom  the 
public  conscience,  if  not  the  legal  judge,  has  con- 
demned to  die.  Why  did  he  take  the  life  of  his  fel- 
low ?  and  why  has  he  no  feeling  of  the  enormity  of 
his  crime  ?  Ah !  it  is  a  long,  sad  story  of  traveling 
down  into  the  darkness  of  sensuality  and  crime.  The 
high  spiritual  nature  in  him  became  weak,  powerless, 
enslaved.  No  light  of  God's  love  shone  through  his 
soul.  Selfishness,  hatred,  jealousy,  revenge,  the  des- 
peration of  appetite  and  passion,  drove  him  to  his 
bloody  work.  Oh  that  he  had  been  as  in  days  past  — 
as  in  the  sweet  and  innocent  years  of  childhood,  when 
heaven  lay  all  about  him  !  Oh  that  he  had  clung  to 
the  hand  of  God,  and  cherished  the  high  powers  of 


THE  WITNESS   OF   UNBELIEF.  83 

his  soul,  and  not  let  himself  be  chained  in  the  fetters 
of  the  flesh !  Then  had  he  escaped  the  temptation  to 
evil,  and  not  been  devoted  to  death,  but  to  life  eternal. 
Murder  is  but  the  form  of  our  common  sinfulness, 
into  which  he,  by  yielding  to  certain  evil  tendencies, 
was  at  last  betrayed.  Or  take  the  defaulter,  suddenly 
overwhelmed  by  exposure,  and  dragging  family  and 
friends  down  with  him  into  the  gulf  of  public  infamy. 
Why  did  he  recklessly  squander  the  large  sums  en- 
trusted to  him,  regardless  of  the  claims  of  those  who 
suffer  by  his  dishonesty  ?  The  explanation  is  at  hand. 
His  intellect,  his  aspirations,  all  the  energies  of  his 
nature,  were  turned  into  the  downward  path.  They 
became  the  instruments  of  a  selfish  will.  The  things 
unseen  and  eternal  faded  from  his  sight,  and  all  the 
objects  he  most  sought  lay  in  the  sphere  of  the  seen 
and  temporal.  His  conscience,  love  of  justice,  and 
sense  of  obligation  grew  weak,  through  the  weakness 
of  that  higher  nature  in  him  which  he  had  neglected. 
Thougfh  he  orave  heed  to  the  outward  forms  of  relis^ion, 
his  soul  was  all  the  time  sinking  into  a  deeper  slum- 
ber. The  eye  of  faith  was  dim.  Eternity  faded  from 
his  vision,  and  time  was  to  him  the  all  in  all.  God 
was  not  near  him.  He  had  not  spiritual  power  enough 
to  hold  in  check  his  strong  earthly  desires.  If  he  had 
held  fast  to  God,  thus  keeping  his  higher  nature  strong 
and  active,  he  woidd  have  resisted  the  temptation. 
But  he  fell  away  from  God ;  and  through  the  feeble- 
ness of  his  spiritual  life,  which  thus  came  upon  him, 
he  was  led  captive  by  his  overgrown  fleshly  tendencies. 
His  conduct  is  a  proof  of  the  truth  of  what  the  Scrip- 
tures say  on  the  subject  of  human  apostasy.  He 
would  not  have  behaved  in  a  manner  so  unwortlw  of 
his  immortal  nature,  had  not  that  nature  been  first 
broufirht  into  bondaire  bv  his  departure  from  God. 


84  SERMONS. 

Thus  might  I  go  on,  showing  not  only  that  all 
specific  crimes,  but  that  the  corruption,  extravagance, 
and  recklessness  of  large  bodies  of  men  are  neither 
more  nor  less  than  forms  of  that  worldliness  or  im- 
godliness  which  constitutes  the  general  life  of  our 
race.  What  the  sj)ecific  forms  of  this  worldly  life 
are  —  in  what  crimes,  vices,  indidgences,  unbeliefs, 
or  oppositions  it  will  show  itself  —  depends,  of  course, 
on  the  peculiarities  of  individuals.  One  will  show 
his  lack  of  spiritual  life,  and  his  bondage  to  this 
world,  in  one  way,  and  another  in  another  way ;  each 
according  to  the  original  bent  of  his  mind,  his  culture, 
his  surroundings,  his  present  pursuits.  That  deadness 
of  soul  which  makes  this  one  a  murderer,  and  that 
one  a  defaulter,  makes  another  one  a  doubter  and  a 
scorner  of  the  sublime  teachings  of  religion.  Those 
teachings  pertain  to  a  sphere  out  of  which  he  has 
fallen.  He  has  no  eye  for  the  glories  of  heaven,  no 
ear  for  its  everlasting  song.  Being  wholly  shut  up 
and  absorbed  in  the  realms  of  sense,  what  wonder  is 
it  that  he  has  become  a  skeptic  and  atheist  ?  that  he 
refuses  to  believe  in  things  to  which  his  soul  is  dead  ? 

Now  I  am  well  aware  that  the  unbelieving  scholars 
and  scientists  of  our  day  will  dislike  my  principle  of 
classification.  They  will  spurn  me  for  putting  their 
infidelities  into  the  same  category  with  more  outbreak- 
ing forms  of  human  wickedness.  Yet  this  is  precisely 
where  I  put  them  and  all  their  theories.  Worldliness 
is  their  sin.  They  have  ceased  to  walk  with  God. 
The  spiritual  side  of  their  nature  is  blind,  insensate, 
dead.  God  and  heaven  have,  by  their  own  confession, 
become  to  them  the  unknown  and  the  "  unknowable." 
Who  shall  com])ute  the  magnitude  of  tlieir  loss  ?  How 
contemptible  their  paltry  discoveries,  in  the  sphere  of 


THE   WITNESS   OF   UNBELIEF.  85 

the  finite,  compared  witli  tlie  infinite  realm  of  which 
they  have  lost  their  clear  knowledge !  It  saddens  me, 
and  I  heave  a  sigh  of  sincere  pity  for  the  poor  outcast 
from  his  divine  Father's  arms,  when  I  hear  Mr.  Her- 
bert Spencer  say  that  God  is  the  unknowable.  Oh, 
what  an  exile  is  that !  what  a  banishment  from  the 
true  home  of  the  Spirit,  from  that  great  inheritance  in 
which  alone  the  soul  of  man  can  grow,  and  ripen,  and 
be  full  of  peace  and  joy !  He  knows  nothing  of  all 
that,  and  denies  that  it  ever  can  be  known.  Our 
exulting  faith  in  things  divine  and  eternal  is  to  him  a 
mystery.  He  thinks  us  deluded,  insane.  Ah,  my 
friends !  just  so  the  blind  man  wonders  when  he  hears 
us  speak  of  the  glories  of  autumnal  forests,  of  the 
exquisite  beauties  of  the  lily  and  violet,  of  the  firma- 
ment blossoming  every  night  with  starry  worlds.  He, 
and  Mr.  Huxley,  and  Mr.  Darwin,  and  Mr.  Mill,  and 
Alexander  Bain,  busy  themselves  with  trying  to  shut 
all  knowledge  up  to  the  phenomena  of  matter.  Man 
is  to  them  but  a  developed  brute.  Mind  is  the  effect 
of  bodily  organization.  Thought  is  a  function  of  the 
gray  matter  in  the  brain.  All  that  you  find  in  Shake- 
speare, Milton,  Isaiah,  or  Paul  exists,  in  a  crude  and 
rudimentary  state,  in  the  reptile  which  we  bruise  with 
our  heel.  Now  what  lights  of  faith  must  have  gone 
out  in  the  souls  of  such  men,  if  they  do  indeed,  with 
all  sinceritj^,  believe  what  they  say !  How  they  nar- 
row down  and  belittle  this  mighty  universe !  They 
have  closed  up  in  themselves  those  windows  by  which 
the  human  soul  may  look  forth  on  the  bright  plains  of 
inmiensity ;  and  hence  they  say  that  there  are  no  such 
plains.  But  the  fact  that  they  see  not  the  imcondi- 
tioned  world  proves  to  us  quite  another  truth.  If  we 
had  not  our  own  experience,  which  we  dare  not  doubt, 


»b  SERMONS. 

yet  there  is  the  testimony  of  the  most  imperial  minds 
of  our  race,  in  every  generation,  to  the  reality  of  a 
spiritual  world.  We  can  doubt  the  teachings  of  our 
bodily  senses  sooner  than  the  sacred  convictions  of  our 
souls.  It  would  be  less  hard  for  us  to  believe  that 
there  is  no  earth,  no  sea,  no  sky  or  stars,  than  to  be- 
lieve that  there  is  no  God.  He  is  the  self-evident  and 
omnipresent  One ;  and  therefore  we  say  that  any  man 
who  doubts  the  existence  of  God  confesses  to  his  own 
sj)iritual  blindness.  He  has  fallen  away  into  the 
power  of  this  world.  The  higher  faculties  of  his 
nature  have  grown  torpid  and  dead  during  his  long 
exile  from  God.  Having  ears  he  hears  not,  and  the 
eyes  of  his  soul  are  closed  up  against  those  great 
truths  which  wander  to  us  out  of  the  eternal  realm. 
He  is  like  the  bewildered  Prince  of  Denmark,  whom 
Shakespeare  makes  say,  "  This  most  excellent  canopy, 
the  air,  this  brave  o'erhanging  firmament,  this  majes- 
tical  roof  fretted  with  golden  fire,  appears  no  other 
thing  to  me  than  a  foul  and  pestilent  congregation  of 
vapors."  "  Appears  no  other  thing  to  me "  is  the 
wise  language  of  the  great  dramatist;  for  he  well 
knew  that  the  mind  of  Hamlet  was  in  no  condi- 
tion to  pass  judgment  on  this  matter,  and  that  his 
gloomy  and  inadequate  views  of  the  universe  but 
proved  the  fearfully  distracted  state  of  his  own 
mind.  It  is  not  necessary,  therefore,  that  we  should 
charge  hypocrisy  or  insincerity  on  the  unbelievers  of 
our  time,  as  they  so  freely  do  upon  us.  We  approacii 
them  with  the  Scriptural  doctrine  of  the  self-exile 
of  man  from  God.  Their  unbelief  witnesses,  with  a 
marvelous  emphasis,  that  that  doctrine  is  true.  We 
look  upon  some  of  the  foremost  of  these  doubters 
with  a  sorrowful  respect ;  with  respect  in  view  of  their 


THE   WITNESS   OF   UNBELIEF.  87 

great  natural  abilities  and  consummate  earthly  culture, 
with  sorrow  when  we  see  how  completely  they  have 
wandered  out  of  the  higher  realms  of  the  soul.  They 
may  be  authorities  on  many  questions  of  mere  natural 
science,  in  all  matters  pertaining  to  this  worldly  life. 
But  when  it  comes  to  spiritual  concerns,  they  are  no 
more  fitted  to  teach  than  the  humblest  of  the  rude 
and  unlettered  mass.  Nay,  there  are  thousands,  un- 
known to  scientific  or  literary  fame,  whose  word  upon 
these  high  themes  is  to  be  taken  long  before  theirs ; 
for  what  is  hid  from  the  wise  and  prudent  is  revealed 
to  babes.  The  sublime  doctrine  of  the  new  birth 
found  no  entrance  into  the  cultivated  soul  of  Nicode- 
mus,  all  whose  culture  was  of  an  earthly  kind ;  but  it 
was  welcomed  by  the  woman  of  Samaria,  for  she  was 
yet  alive  in  that  part  of  her  nature  wliich  looks  toward 
G  od,  and  eternity,  and  spiritual  things.  "  The  natural 
man  perceiveth  not  the  things  which  be  of  God,"  says 
St.  Paul.  No  matter  how  learned  or  wise  any  may 
be,  this  disability  rests  upon  them  till  they  have  the 
fanilty  of  divine  knowledge  restored  to  them  in  Christ. 
He  alone  is  the  truth  ;  and  all  who  follow  in  His  steps, 
however  lowly,  partake  of  the  spirit  of  truth  in  Him ; 
while  any  who  turn  aside  from  the  life  which  He  has 
brought  down  to  us  walk  in  darkness.  They  have  in 
them  no  knowledge  or  faculty  on  which  to  build  an 
opinion  concerning  the  realm  of  spiritual  truth.  All 
their  learning  and  science  carries  them  farther  into 
that  worldliness  where  God  is  never  found.  We  grieve 
over  the  torpid  and  crippled  state  of  their  religious 
nature,  while  admiring  the  wonderful  strides  wliich 
they  make  in  all  other  knowledge ;  and  the  pressing 
question  with  us  is.  How  shall  they,  or  at  least  their 
deluded  followers,  so  many  of  them  as  we  may  reach, 


88  SERMONS. 

be  rescued  from  that  bondage  of  the  flesh  to  which 
their  unbelief  witnesses,  and  be  turned  about,  and 
made  to  see  those  eternal  verities  which  are  an  un- 
known land  to  them  in  their  present  state  of  mind  '^ 

To  this  question,  brethren,  let  us  now  attend.  We 
see  that  the  great  need  of  unbelievers,  as  of  all  other 
worldly  men,  is  to  be  raised  up  out  of  the  power  of 
the  flesh  into  communion  with  God.  Of  course  this 
restoration  is  a  suj^ernatural  work.  There  are  no 
forces  in  nature  which  can  raise  man  above  nature ; 
that  which  elevates  us  to  God  must  come  from  God. 
Now  we  hold  to  all  the  divine  and  supernatural  helps 
for  which  this  mighty  exigency  calls :  they  have  been 
let  down  to  us  in  the  cross  of  Jesus  Chi'ist,  by  whom 
also  we  receive  atonement,  and  who  brings  life  and 
immortality  to  light.  This  great  redemption  in  Him 
is  all  our  hope  and  aU  our  joy.  But  while  we  rejoice 
in  all  the  mysteries  which  this  redemj)tion  involves, 
being  led  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  how  are  worldly  men 
and  unbelievers  to  be  convinced  of  their  truth,  that 
they,  too,  may  become  partakers  of  our  joy? 

1.  Let  me  say  a  word,  first,  of  those  arguments 
which  we  address  to  the  reason  and  understanding  of 
men.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  underrate  any  of  these. 
We  have,  on  one  side,  a  scientific  spirit,  the  highest 
intelligence,  the  utmost  loyalty  to  truth.  Infidelity 
has  been  met  on  its  own  ground  of  debate ;  and  the 
many  works  written  in  reply  to  its  pretensions  are 
among  the  noblest  literary  monuments.  Over  against 
all  assaults  on  our  religious  faith,  there  stands  a  de- 
fense of  the  faith  inscribed  with  the  greatest  names 
in  philosophy,  science,  and  letters.  The  doctrine  of 
evolution,  as  put  forth  by  Herbert  Spencer,  has  been 
answered  again  and  again  in  the  arena  of  philosophical 


THE   WITNESS   OF  UNBELIEF.  89 

debate.  When  Mr.  Mill  tells  us  that  there  are  no 
fii-st  truths,  and  that  we  can  never  know  anything  but 
sensuous  phenomena,  we  point  him  to  the  intuitional 
philosophy  of  Reid,  Hamilton,  Coleridge,  and  Hick- 
ock,  which  he  must  accept,  or  the  basis  of  his  own 
system  is  gone.  The  doctrine  of  Darwin  and  Haxley, 
that  what  we  call  intellectual  and  spiritual  life  is  only 
the  result  of  a  highly  developed  bodily  organization, 
has  been  overthrown  many  times  by  the  greatest  mas- 
ters of  philosophical  reasoning.  "Properly  speak- 
ing," says  Julius  Miiller,  ''  there  is  no  fixed  transition 
from  nature  to  spirit :  spirit  is  not  only  distinct  from 
the  stages  below  it,  but  is  essentially  different  from 
nature  as  a  whole  ;  the  difference  is  one  not  of  degree 
merely,  but  of  kind,  for  spirit  is  infinitely  above 
nature,  —  an  entirely  new  beginning,  which  can  be 
explained  neither  by  the  stage  of  natural  development 
next  below  it,  nor  by  all  the  stages  of  natural  devel- 
opment together."  In  answer  to  the  atheism  of  Comte 
and  his  extreme  followers,  if  their  own  inconsistencies 
be  not  a  sufficient  witness  to  the  truth,  we  may  bring 
the  conclusion  of  the  great  Kantian  school  of  thinkers, 
that  the  being  of  God  is  a  truth  which  it  is  impossible 
to  doubt.  What  the  adherents  of  the  positive  philos- 
ophy say,  of  the  extension  of  natural  processes  into 
the  whole  realm  of  human  conduct,  falls  before  the 
grand  words  of  William  von  Humboldt :  "  There  is 
a  voice  in  the  himian  soul  which  tells  man  that  he 
is  free  and  independent.  In  the  natural  world  all 
things  are  enchained  one  with  another,  but  man's  con- 
sciousness of  freedom  makes  him  enter  this  world  as 
the  denizen  of  another ;  for  what  is  only  eartldy  can 
never  be  free,  and  what  is  spiritual  can  never  be  sub- 
ject to  necessity."     Thus  might  I  go  on  and  show. 


90  SERMONS. 

did  time  permit,  liow  every  position  which  unbelief 
has  taken  in  the  field  of  rational  debate  has  been 
effectually  turned. 

But  these  triumphant  replies  to  the  doubter  are  not 
what  we  need  in  dealing  with  him.  So  far  as  the 
actual  persuading  of  the  skeptic  goes,  their  results  are 
small.  They  are  almost  worthless  practically,  how- 
ever noble  as  masterpieces  of  reasoning  and  thought, 
for  two  reasons  :  (1)  Those  who  believe  them  are  con- 
vinced without  them  ;  and  (2)  confirmed  unbelievers 
lack  the  power  which  alone  can  appreciate  them.  (1) 
Religious  skepticism  would  be  proof  of  insanity  to 
such  a  man  as  Jonathan  Edwards,  who  could  say  of 
himself,  "  There  seemed  to  me  to  be,  as  it  were,  a 
calm,  sweet  cast,  or  appearance  of  divine  glory,  in 
almost  everything.  God's  excellency,  His  wisdom. 
His  purity  and  love,  seemed  to  appear  in  everything ; 
in  the  sun,  and  moon,  and  stars;  in  the  clouds  and 
blue  sky ;  in  the  grass,  flowers,  and  trees ;  in  the 
water  and  all  nature."  No  doubt  such  men  as  Edward 
Payson  would  receive  every  word  of  our  splendid 
Christian  apologetics.  Yet  of  what  use  could  they  all 
be  to  him  ?  who  saw,  with  the  open  eye  of  his  soul, 
what  is  within  the  veil ;  and  could  say,  "  I  have  been 
for  some  weeks  a  happy  inhabitant  of  the  land  of 
Beulah.  The  celestial  city  is  full  in  my  view.  Its 
glories  have  been  upon  me,  its  breezes  fan  me,  its 
odors  are  wafted  to  me,  its  sounds  strike  upon  my 
ears,  and  its  spirit  is  breathed  into  my  heart."  There 
is  to-day  a  great  company  of  new-born  souls  in  our 
Christian  churches,  to  which  the  grandest  words  of 
the  defenders  of  the  faith  are  meagre  and  tame.  The 
most  glowing  descriptions  of  the  being  and  attributes 
of  God,  and  of  the  unseen  world  disclosed  to  us  by 


THE   WITNESS    OF    UNBELIEF.  91 

inspiration,  do  not  come  up  to  what  they  daily  expe- 
rience. They  know  whom  they  have  beheved.  Their 
faith  rests  on  things  which  they  have  seen  and  handled 
for  themselves.  Unbelief  is  what  they  cannot  under- 
stand. To  attempt  to  answer  it  is,  in  their  view,  to 
reason  with  madmen.  The  life  of  God  has  entered 
into  them,  enabling  them  to  lay  hold  of  what  the  nat- 
ural man  perceiveth  not ;  and  hence  all  unbelief  is  to 
them  irrational,  and  our  meeting  it  in  the  arena  of 
philosophical  debate  a  piece  of  impertinence.  (2)  But 
it  is  no  less  true  that  our  reasonings  against  unbelief 
are  not  needed  by  those  who  are  spiritually  alive,  than 
that  they  fail  to  convince  those  who  are  spiritually 
dead.  They  do  not  live  that  transcendent  life  in 
which  Edwards  and  Payson  rejoiced.  Lacking,  as 
they  do,  the  spiritual  wakefulness  by  which  the  truths 
of  Christianity  are  made  evident  to  the  soul,  our  rea- 
soning is  lost  upon  them.  They  treat  us  as  the  think- 
ers of  Athens  treated  Paul  in  Mars  Hill,  —  mocking 
the  doctrines  which  to  him  were  entirely  reasonable, 
because  they  had  none  of  his  deep  consciousness  of 
the  supernatural  world.  He  was  to  them  as  an  hea- 
then man  and  a  publican,  though  he  spoke  the  highest 
reason.  He  spoke  to  them  out  of  a  realm  the  knowl- 
edge of  which  had  not  been  retained  in  their  thoughts. 
He  addressed  a  j^art  of  their  nature  which  generations 
of  worldliness  had  made  torpid  and  dead.  Christ  met 
this  same  obstacle  in  his  efforts  to  reason  with  men 
about  spiritual  things.  He  gave  over  trying  to  per- 
suade unbelievers ;  saying,  with  just  though  terrible 
severity,  "  Cast  not  your  pearls  before  swine,  nor  give 
that  which  is  holy  to  dogs."  He  refused  to  reason 
with  Nicodemus  about  the  new  birth.  That  ruler  of 
the  Jews,  though  learned  and  polished  in  his  way,  was 


92  SERMOXS. 

yet  of  an  earthly  mind.  There  was  nothing  in  him 
which  responded  to  the  voice  of  Christ.  He  could  only 
say,  "  How  can  these  things  be  ?  "  when  Christ  sjioke 
of  the  ojDerations  of  the  Spirit.  Christ  ceased  trying 
to  persuade  him,  finding  in  him  no  spiritual  life  to 
which  he  could  speak,  and  saying,  "How  shall  you 
believe,  if  I  tell  you  heavenly  things  ? "  The  light 
withdrew  its  shining,  because  the  darkness  in  which  it 
shone  comprehended  it  not. 

2.  Another  argument,  which  we  prize  above  all  our 
reasonings  when  we  deal  with  unbelief,  is  the  Chris- 
tian life.  Professor  Christlieb's  remark,  that  the 
Christian  is  the  world's  Bible,  but  repeats  the  teach- 
ing of  Scri2:)ture  which  says,  "  Ye  are  living  epistles ; 
ye  are  the  light  of  the  world."  We  sometimes  com- 
pare Christ's  followers,  whom  he  has  left  here  below 
while  He  pleads  within  the  veil,  to  the  moon,  which 
shines  in  the  absence  of  the  sun.  But  the  figure  is 
inadequate ;  for  the  moon  only  reflects  the  light  of 
the  sun,  while  Christ  does  in  very  deed  dwell  in  the 
hearts  of  His  people.  He  is  formed  within  them.  It 
is  not  they  that  live,  but  He  liveth  in  them ;  His  life 
and  His  dying  reign  in  their  mortal  body.  There  is 
this  supernatural  and  divine  element  in  every  true 
Christian.  He  is  a  revelation  of  God  to  all  who  be- 
hold him.  The  great  change  which  came  over  Henry 
Marty n,  when  he  gave  up  his  brilliant  prospects  at  the 
university  and  devoted  himself  to  the  work  of  mis- 
sions, cannot  be  accounted  for  on  natural  principles. 
The  conversions  of  St.  Paul,  of  Colonel  James  Gar- 
diner, of  Martin  Luther,  of  John  Bunyan,  and  their 
subsequent  experiences  of  the  new  life  in  Christ,  are 
an  insoluble  mystery  to  such  as  deny  the  supernatural. 
A  world  wholly  above  nature,  divine  and  eternal,  came 


THE   WITNESS   OF   UN  BE  LIEF.  93 

down  into  those  men,  and  revealed  itself  to  the  aston- 
ished gaze  of  all  who  met  them.  This  manifestation 
of  a  spiritual  realm,  in  which  God  and  Christ  dwell, 
goes  on  through  the  ages,  in  the  lives  of  the  great 
company  of  the  redeemed.  Yet  how  small  the  power 
of  this  sublime  argument  on  unbelievers !  It  is  only 
a  testimony  against  them  —  oh,  how  often  I  —  where 
we  look  to  see  it  bring  them  to  repentance.  To  me, 
brethren,  it  is  one  of  the  saddest  facts  connected  with 
the  life  of  Christ,  that  so  few  of  those  who  saw  Him, 
and  heard  Him  speak,  and  beheld  His  mighty  works, 
believed  on  His  name.  We  read  that  He  Himself 
marveled  at  this  unbelief  ;  and  He  refused  to  teach, 
and  work  miracles,  before  the  men  who  were  so  dead 
to  spiritual  things.  What  a  comment,  on  the  lapsed 
condition  of  the  souls  to  which  He  came,  that  all  the 
disciples  in  and  about  Jerusalem,  whom  His  wondrous 
life  and  ministry  had  made,  could  be  gathered  into 
one  small  room  about  the  time  of  Pentecost,  beino-  in 
number  only  an  himdred  and  twenty !  Think  it  not 
strange  that  the  converting  power  of  our  life  is  small, 
if  that  of  the  Son  of  God  HimseK  bore  no  greater 
fruit.  All  this  glorious  testimony  is  made  weak 
through  the  spiritual  blindness  of  those  to  whom  it  is 
addressed.  The  darkness  does  not  comprehend  the 
light.  The  natural  man  perceiveth  not  the  things 
which  be  of  God.  Their  worldliness,  like  the  garish 
day,  makes  in\dsible  to  men  the  constellations  of  divine 
truth  which  circle  and  roll  in  beauteous  order  all 
through  the  eternity  lying  so  deep  and  vast  about 
them.  Such  is  the  spiritual  condition  of  all  unbe- 
lievers. In  vain  do  we  reason  or  argue  with  them ; 
in  vain  do  they  see  the  power  of  Christianity  displayed 
in  the  lives  of  believers  ;  in  vain  do  we  teU  them  that 


94  SERMONS. 

the  religion  of  Christ  is  adapted  to  meet  the  deepest 
wants  of  their  natures.  Their  spiritual  life  is  too 
feeble  to  appreciate  any  of  these  persuasions  to  faith. 
We  speak  wisdom  among  the  perfect ;  but  to  the  Jew 
it  is  a  stumbling-block,  and  to  the  Greek  foolishness. 
Yv^hat  a  witness  against  men  is  their  own  unbelief ! 
How  it  confirms  the  truth  of  their  deadness  of  soul, 
out  of  which  their  unbelief  grows,  that  the  sublime 
argument  which  the  history  of  the  church  offers  them 
leaves  them  unconvinced!  The  eye  of  the  spirit  in 
them  is  closed  up.  They  doubt  the  existence  of  the 
great  world  of  religious  truth,  of  which  this  temporal 
world  is  only  a  poor  shadow,  because  they  have  not 
the  power  to  gee  it.  Oh  that  some  man  of  God  might 
pray  for  them  as  Elisha  prayed  for  his  servant  in 
Dothan !  then  should  their  eyes  be  opened  to  see,  with 
the  prophet's  own  blessed  vision,  the  horses  and  char- 
iots of  God  in  the  mountains  round  about  them. 

3.  How,  then,  are  unbelievers  to  be  convinced? 
What  shall  scatter  the  mists  of  skepticism?  What 
shall  drive  infidelity  and  atheism  out  of  the  world  ? 
The  occasion  of  the  evil  suggests  the  nature  of  the 
remedy.  "  Not  by  might,  nor  by  j)ower,  but  by  my 
Spirit,"  saith  the  Lord.  The  grand  need  of  men,  in 
order  that  they  may  escape  from  their  bondage  to 
doubt,  is  spiritual  quickening.  They  doubt  because 
they  are  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins ;  and  they  will 
believe  just  so  far  as  they  are  raised  up  out  of  this 
grave,  and  made  alive  unto  God,  by  the  washing  of 
regeneration  and  the  renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
This  is  the  first  resurrection,  which  they  must  expe- 
rience in  order  that  they  may  believe  in  the  unseen 
things  which  to  us  are  the  truest  of  all  truths.  It  is 
clear,  therefore,  why  Christ  and  the  apostles  make  so 


THE   WITNESS   OF   UNBELIEF.  95 

much  of  tlie  second  birth.  Nothing  is  phiiner  than 
that  they  did  not  expect  men  to  believe,  in  any  saving 
sense,  till  their  souls  had  been  begotten  again  from 
the  dead.  This  faith  of  theirs  is  uttered  in  the 
strongest  possible  way  by  Paul,  where  he  says,  ''  No 
man  can  call  Christ  Lord  save  by  the  Spirit  of  God." 
The  dear  truth  that  we  are  God's  children  is  wholly 
unknown  to  us  till  this  same  Spirit  enters  into  our 
hearts  and  enables  us  to  cry,  "  Abba,  Father."  Not 
a  Christian  grace  or  virtue  is  there  in  the  noblest 
character,  but  we  must  view  it  as  one  of  the  fruits  of 
the  Spirit.  No  power  of  argument,  no  power  of  ex- 
ample, but  His  renewing  work  in  the  souls  of  men, 
convinces  them  of  sin,  of  righteousness,  of  judgment 
to  come.  Of  all  the  proj^er  names  which  we  find  in 
the  Bible,  it  seems  to  me,  brethren,  that  none  is  more 
befitting  than  the  one  which  Christ  gave  to  the  Spirit. 
He  called  Him  the  Comforter.  '*  The  Comforter, 
which  is  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  Father  will  send  in  my 
name."  God  has  always  appeared  as  the  Comforter 
of  His  people,  adapting  His  aid  to  their  present  ex- 
igency. And  the  exigency  now  upon  us  is  one  in 
which  nothing  but  the  Spirit,  changing  men's  hearts, 
can  give  us  any  comfort  or  hope.  AVe  are  bidden  to 
preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature,  until  the  world 
shall  be  full  of  the  glory  of  God.  But  we  find  in 
men  no  power  to  receive  our  message.  The  carrying- 
out  of  the  promise,  which  began  to  be  fulfilled  on  the 
day  of  Pentecost,  alone  is  able  to  save  us  from  despair. 
We  go  on  proclaiming  wdiat  the  natural  man  per- 
ceiveth  not,  knowing  that  the  Spirit  is  poured  out  on 
all  flesh.  Great  is  the  comfort  of  His  presence ;  He 
is  almighty  ;  nothing  can  withstand  His  power.  Were 
it  not  for  Him,  we  should  have  no  hope  of  any  soul. 


96  SERMONS. 

But  with  His  aid,  brooding  over  the  dead  heart,  and 
making  a  place  in  it  for  the  truth,  we  are  girded  all 
the  time  with  a  joyous  courage.  We  preach  to  the 
scorner,  to  the  sullen  doubter,  to  the  worldling,  to  the 
slave  of  vice,  to  the  artful  opposer,  yea,  and  to  those 
almost  persuaded,  with  one  and  the  same  confidence : 
for  it  is  not  we  that  speak,  but  God  speaketh  by  us ; 
with  Him  all  things  are  possible  ;  the  words  which  we 
utter  are  the  Spirit's  weapons,  and  in  His  hand  are 
mighty  to  the  pulling  down  of  strongholds.  Miracles, 
as  technically  defined,  may  be  no  longer  needed  in  the 
church  ;  but  in  a  larger  sense  they  are  needed,  and 
are  all  the  time  taking  place,  and  will  continue  to  be 
indispensable  till  the  world  is  converted  to  God.  The 
sons  of  God  did  not  shout  for  joy  with  more  wonder 
in  the  first  morning  of  creation  than  the  angels  still 
rejoice  when  He  that  was  dead  is  alive  again.  Regen- 
eration is  the  work  of  God.  Repentance  and  faith  are 
supernatural  acts.  We  are  God's  workmanship,  re- 
created in  Christ  Jesus  unto  good  works.  It  is  as  this 
blessed  renewal  goes  on  in  society,  in  men's  hearts, 
in  the  literature  and  business  and  legislation  of  the 
world,  that  the  new  heaven  and  earth,  in  which  right- 
eousness is  to  dwell,  shall  be  revealed.  Our  most  be- 
coming attitude  is  that  of  prayer  for  the  coming  of 
the  Spirit,  my  brethren,  while  we  strive  to  extend 
around  us,  through  all  human  pursuits  and  interests, 
the  blessed  reign  of  Christ.  We  prophesy  in  a  valley 
of  dry  bones,  even  as  Ezekiel  did ;  and,  like  him,  we 
shall  be  mighty  only  as  we  lift  up  the  voice,  "  Come 
from  the  four  winds,  O  breath,  and  breathe  upon  these 
slain,  that  they  may  live." 


THE   WITNESS   OF   UNBELIEF.  97 

*'  Spirit  of  power  and  might,  behold 
A  world  by  sin  destroyed ! 
Creator  Spirit,  as  of  old 
Move  on  the  formless  void. 

"  Give  Thou  the  word  :  that  healing  sound 
Shall  quell  the  deadly  strife. 
And  earth  again,  like  Eden  crowned, 
Produce  the  tree  of  life." 


I/' 


WORSHIP  AS  A  MEANS  OF  SPIRITUAL 
CULTURE.! 

God  is  a  Spirit :  and  they  that  worship  Him  must  worship  Him  in 
spirit  and  in  truth.  —  John  iv.  24. 

My  dear  People,  Members  of  the  Old  South 
Church  and  Society  :  —  You  have  erected  here  "  a 
house  for  the  assembling  yourselves  [themselves]  to- 
gether publicly  to  worship  God ; "  and  it  is  with  great 
joy  that  we  are  met  this  evening  to  set  it  apart  for 
that  solemn  use,  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  and  of 
the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

The  important  thing  in  the  worship  of  God  is  that 
it  furnishes  to  us  our  principal  means  of  spiritual  cul- 
ture ;  and  in  that  light  I  now  invite  you  to  consider  it. 

Our  blessed  Lord  teaches  us,  in  the  text,  that  all 
true  worship  of  God  is  essentially  a  spiritual  exercise. 
They  that  worship  God  "  must  worship  Him  in  spirit." 
The  service  cannot  be  rendered  by  any  of  our  lower 
faculties,  but  only  by  our  highest  faculties  ;  by  that  in 
us  which  is  spiritual,  which  is  immortal,  which  can 
overleap  the  bounds  of  time  and  lay  hold  of  eternal 
things,  which  came  directly  from  God,  and  partakes 
of  His  own  divine  nature. 

That  we  all  have  in  us  this  high  spiritual  nature, 
constituting  us  the  children  of  God,  I  need  not  prove 
to  you  who  are  gathered  here  to-night.  You  believe 
in  it  as  thoroughly  as  did  the  men  to  whom  St.  Paul 

!  Preached  at  the  dedication  of  the  Old  South,  December  15,  1875. 


SPIRITUAL    CULTURE.  99 

preached  in  Mars  Hill,  whose  own  poets  had  taught 
them  that  they  were  "God's  offspring."  A  noble  joy 
thrills  you,  responsive  to  the  great  words  of  Scripture 
which  declare  that  God  is  "  the  Father  of  spirits ; " 
which  represent  God  as  saying,  "  Let  us  make  man  in 
our  image,  after  our  likeness  ;  "  which  teach  that  the 
divine  life  breathed  into  us  makes  us  living  souls ; 
which  say  that  God  has  crowned  us  with  glory  and 
honor,  and  set  us  over  the  works  of  His  hands. 

This  spiritual  nature  in  us  may  be  in  bondage.  It 
may  lie  dead  under  an  incrustation  of  worldliness  and 
sin.  It  may  need  to  be  quickened  by  the  power  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,  and  delivered  through  faith  in  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  in  order  that  we  may  be  fully  con- 
scious of  it,  so  as  to  look  up  into  God's  face  and  cry, 
"  Abba,  Father."  But  that  we  have  it,  that  it  is  our 
essential  attribute  and  the  peculiar  glory  of  our  race, 
nothing  can  ever  make  us  doubt.  God  is  a  Spirit, 
and  man  is  a  spirit ;  and  inasmuch  as  the  worship  of 
God  is  an  employment  which  engages  our  spirits  in 
their  most  lively  and  vigorous  exercise,  such  worship 
is  to  us  the  most  important  of  aU  the  duties  we  are 
called  upon  to  perform. 

You  provide  means  for  the  education  and  training 
of  the  lower  departments  of  man's  nature,  —  the  dis- 
cipline being  carefully  adapted  in  each  case  to  the 
end  which  is  sought.  (1)  Great  attention  is  paid,  for 
instance,  to  the  wants  of  man's  physical  nature.  In 
proof  of  this  I  need  but  point  you  to  the  g^Tnnasium, 
the  riding-school,  the  skating-rink,  the  play-grounds 
and  parks,  so  carefully  guarded  in  our  large  cities. 
Parents  in  their  homes,  and  teachers  in  the  schools, 
are  careful  to  provide  whatever  may  tend  to  the  bodily 
growth,  health,  and  vigor  of  the  young.     Ventilation, 


100  SERMONS. 

drainage,  what  we  shall  eat  and  drink,  and  what  we 
shall  wear,  are  subjects  of  earnest  study  and  advice. 
To  prevent  disease,  rather  than  to  cure  it,  is  the  aim 
of  the  high-minded  physician.  Boards  of  health  are 
oroanized  to  consider  what  shall  be  done  with  infec- 
tious  diseases  and  malarious  districts ;  and  vital  statis- 
tics are  gathered  in  the  hope  of  leading  to  measures 
which  shall  promote  the  physical  vigor  of  races  and 
nations.  We  recognize  the  claims  of  this  care  for 
men's  bodies  even  in  the  house  of  God,  our  churches 
being  supplied  with  pure  air,  warmth,  light,  and  com- 
fortable sittings,  as  they  were  not  at  an  earlier  day. 
Experience  has  taught  us  that  soundness  of  body  may 
be  an  aid  to  spiritual  health ;  and  we  provide  that 
physical  comfort  which  the  civilization  of  our  time 
demands,  in  order  that  the  soul,  unhindered  by  a 
feeble  or  weary  body,  may  be  free  to  listen,  and  praise, 
and  adore.  (2)  Consider,  again,  what  pains  we  take 
to  provide  for  the  intellectual  culture  of  both  old  and 
young.  The  largest  item  in  our  tax-bills,  usually,  is 
that  which  goes  to  support  the  public  schools.  Not 
only  are  universities  founded  and  maintained  at  great 
cost,  in  which  students  are  fitted  for  the  learned  pro- 
fessions, and  where  special  studies  into  every  depart- 
ment of  knowledge  are  pushed  to  the  utmost,  but  a 
large  class  of  lecturers  and  writers  are  kept  busy 
popularizing  this  knowledge,  that  it  may  come  into  our 
homes  and  be  scattered  broadcast,  to  be  the  food  of 
our  intellects,  and  to  save  them  from  degeneracy  amid 
the  wear  and  tear  of  our  daily  life.  And  this  carefid- 
ness  for  mental  health  and  growth,  too,  is  duly  honored 
in  our  New  England  churches.  The  preacher  is  ex- 
pected to  offer  to  his  people  from  week  to  week,  not 
mere  platitudes,  or  exhortations  which  are  stale  and 


SPIRITUAL   CULTURE.  101 

superficial,  but  the  fruits  of  his  prolonged  and  earnest 
thought,  —  patient  studies  of  the  profoundest  subjects, 
which  shall  enlighten  the  understanding,  and  stimulate 
and  feed  the  love  of  truth. 

Once  more,  (3)  recall  the  pains  which  we  take  for 
the  aesthetic  culture  of  ourselves  and  our  children. 
Our  homes  and  our  public  buildings  are  planned  with 
an  eye  to  their  beauty  as  well  as  their  utility.  Not 
only  do  we  try  to  make  them  convenient  and  comfort- 
able \v4thin,  but  tasteful  both  within  and  without.  We 
value  a  superb  picture  or  piece  of  statuary,  and  any 
exquisite  furniture,  for  their  refining  influence  upon 
our  artistic  nature.  We  multiply  as  we  are  able,  in 
our  dwellings  and  in  public  museums,  these  silent 
teachers,  which  shape  our  taste  to  their  noble  and 
faultless  forms.  The  bald  life  of  an  earlier  day  does 
not  satisfy  us.  W^e  are  continually  breaking  over  the 
restraints  of  our  forefathers,  feeling  that  their  plain 
ways  were  due  quite  as  much  to  want  of  aesthetic  spirit 
as  to  their  high  morals.  Not  only  architecture,  paint- 
ing, and  sculpture,  but  music  in  all  its  forms,  is  prized 
as  a  means  to  this  aesthetic  culture.  We  also  fill  our 
bookcases  with  the  finest  works  of  imagination,  in 
both  poetry  and  prose.  And  our  social  and  domestic 
life,  our  tables,  our  dress,  our  equipages,  and  neigh- 
borly intercourse,  are  shaped  with  a  view  to  making 
them  a  part  of  this  artistic  school.  Nature  joins  with 
himian  skill  in  providing  for  this  aesthetic  discipline. 
She  gives  us  her  midday  glories,  her  rising  and  setting 
suns,  her  soft  shadows  on  the  distant  slopes  and  plains, 
her  gleaming  cascades,  her  misty  cataracts,  her  mossy 
and  dripping  glens,  her  echoing  caverns,  her  noisy 
brooks,  her  overarching  and  whispering  trees,  her 
grotesque  forms,  her  bald  cliffs,  her  sky-kissing  moun- 


102  SERMONS. 

tain  ranges,  with  their  awful  gorges  between.  The 
roof  of  her  tem23le  is  fretted  with  golden  fire,  and  its 
floor  inlaid  with  malachite  and  pearl.  We  hear  her 
feathered  choirs  in  the  leafy  groves ;  the  solemn  voice 
of  her  immensity  comes  up  to  us  from  the  sea.  This 
vast  provision  for  our  aesthetic  culture,  which  we  find 
in  nature  and  society,  is  not  unduly  reflected  in  our 
best  houses  of  worship.  Their  architecture  and  dec- 
orations, their  music,  their  ceremonial  and  forms  of 
speech,  will  prove  a  clog  to  the  human  spirit,  in  its 
efforts  to  commune  with  God,  if  conspicuous  for  their 
ugliness,  or  if  they  offend  that  aesthetic  standard  which 
our  common  civilization  has  set  up. 

Such  are  the  means  furnished  for  the  education  of 
the  lower  departments  of  our  nature.  I  recognize 
them  all  as  proper  and  necessary;  but  it  is  not  for 
them  that  I  plead  to-night.  There  is,  within  the 
body,  something  which  is  more  than  the  body.  Man's 
noblest  capacity  is  not  intellectual  or  aesthetic.  When 
we  have  mounted  to  this  height,  we  but  stand  on  the 
threshold  of  that  in  him  which  is  his  true  glory :  the 
holy  of  holies  is  yet  far  above.  Man  is  a  spirit ;  he 
was  made  in  the  image  of  God,  and  in  that  divine 
nature  is  the  true  sanctuary  of  our  being.  It  is  for 
the  culture  of  this  that  I  plead ;  that  this  may  be 
quickened  and  unfolded  witliin  us,  we  are  commanded 
to  worship  God. 

When  the  patriarch  was  returning  home  from  the 
East,  being  about  to  meet  his  brother  Esau,  whose 
anger  he  dreaded,  his  greatest  care  was  for  the  safety 
of  that  which  he  held  dearest.  He  sent  forward,  as 
first  to  meet  the  danger,  his  flocks,  led  by  his  servants, 
having  separated  them  into  several  droves.  Then,  far 
behind  these,  he  placed  the  handmaids  and  their  chil- 


SPIRITUAL   CULTURE.  103 

dren ;  and  after  them,  yet  farther  in  the  rear,  went 
Leah  and  her  children  ;  and  last  of  all,  in  the  place 
of  least  peril,  came  his  beloved  Rachel  with  his  son 
Joseph.  And  he  said,  "  If  Esau  come  to  one  com- 
pany and  smite  it,  then  the  other  company  which  is 
left  shall  escape."  Now,  dear  friends,  let  us  not 
reverse  this  wise  order  in  caring  for  our  various  capa- 
cities and  wants.  If  anything  in  us  must  be  risked, 
let  it  be  the  body,  and  the  intellect,  and  the  aesthetic 
nature,  rather  than  the  soul.  Let  us  first  provide  for 
the  safety,  and  for  the  growth  and  culture,  of  that  in 
us  which  makes  us  God's  children.  By  this  arrange- 
ment I  believe  that  we  shall  not  only  save  what  is 
most  precious  in  us,  but  all  else  which  we  hold  dear ; 
even  as  Jacob,  who  cared  first  for  the  child  of  prom- 
ise, was  permitted  to  see  his  whole  family  and  all  his 
substance  delivered.  St.  Paul  prays  for  his  brethren 
that  their  soul,  body,  and  spirit  may  be  preserved  unto 
the  coming  of  the  Lord  ;  and  experience  teaches  us 
that  it  is  by  caring  for  the  higher  interest  that  we 
secure  the  lower.  God  has  so  ordered  it  that  blessed- 
ness and  joy  flow  downward.  If  our  manhood  or 
womanhood  be  alive  and  flourishing  at  its  top,  all  its 
lower  branches  will  partake  of  the  vigor  and  health. 

But  I  greatly  fear  that  many  of  us  have  fallen  into 
sad  nes^lect  as  resrards  this  culture  of  the  soul.  What 
say  the  rehgious  habits  of  a  large  class  of  citizens  ? 
Can  they  be  said  to  have  any  religious  habits  ?  With 
all  their  wealth,  and  intelligence,  and  social  refinement, 
are  they  not  totally  regardless  of  their  spiritual  cul- 
ture ?  We  hear  and  read  a  great  deal  about  preaching 
the  gospel  to  the  poor.  But  are  not  the  really  poor, 
in  our  day,  those  who  say  that  they  are  rich,  and  in 
need  of  nothing  ?     Too  many  of  these,  alas  !  are  "  the 


104  SERMONS. 

neglected  classes ;  and  they  are  suffering  from  tlie 
worst  form  of  neglect,  which  is  self-neglect.  We 
thank  God  for  all  the  bright  exceptions ;  but  I  leave 
it  for  you  to  say,  dear  friends,  whether  or  not  those 
of  our  citizens  most  blessed  with  temporal  prosperity 
are  most  constant  and  earnest  in  their  devotion  to 
spiritual  things.  Do  not  the  great  religious  awaken- 
ings pass  by  these  for  the  most  part,  and  bless  the 
common  people?  Do  not  the  migratory  habits  of 
many,  now  in  one  place  of  sojourn  and  now  in  another, 
but  so  little  of  their  time  at  home,  tempt  them  to  be 
irregular  in  their  worship  and  communion?  If  any 
of  us  are  conscious  that  we  have  thought  too  little  of 
our  sj)iritual  culture  in  our  devotion  to  other  interests, 
let  us  here  resolve  that  we  will  correct  that  fault. 
Why  should  our  humanity  be  dead  at  the  toj)  ?  We 
are  alive  to  every  temporal  interest,  and  why  should 
we  not  be  alive  toward  God  ?  Why  should  that  which 
is  noblest  in  us  be  dwarfed,  or  fall  into  decay  and 
death  for  want  of  exercise  ?  Why  should  we  cast  our 
greatness  from  us  ?  why  take  the  crown  of  glory  from 
our  heads  and  tread  it  into  the  mire  ? 

Now  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  public  worship  is 
our  only  means  of  spiritual  culture ;  but  it  is  the  cen- 
tral point,  and  the  vitalizing  source,  of  whatever  other 
means  we  may  employ.  Men  cease  to  care  about  the 
discipline  of  their  spiritual  powers,  and  grow  gradu- 
ally into  the  neglect  of  it  in  every  form,  when  they 
have  no  more  desire  to  assemble  publicly  for  the  wor- 
ship of  God.  I  am  glad  the  good  lady  who  gave  this 
church  her  parcel  of  land  put  these  golden  words  into 
her  form  of  bequest.  They  point  to  the  grandest 
object  for  which  man  can  live ;  they  express  the 
noblest  employment  in  which  he  can  engage. 


SPIRITUAL    CULTURE.  105 

And  just  here  we  see  the  foundation  on  which  the 
Christian  pulpit,  with  its  two  sacraments,  forever  rests. 
It  is  the  centre  of  this  whole  system  of  spiritual  dis- 
cipline ;  and  I  have  no  fears  for  its  permanence  and 
power,  whatever  its  abuses  may  be,  so  long  as  men  do 
not  foraet  their  hi":hest  and  most  sacred  want.  If  it 
were  possible  to  destroy  the  influence  of  the  pulpit,  it 
should  have  been  a  by-word  and  hissing  long  ago.  Its 
sacred  function  has  been  most  shamefuUy  forgotten. 
It  has  been  degraded  to  the  level  of  the  platform  and 
the  stage.  Notoriety  and  fame  have  been  sought  by 
its  occupants  rather  than  the  salvation  of  souls.  It 
has  been  judged  by  its  success  in  selling  or  renting 
the  pews.  Nothing  is  too  vapid,  too  crude,  or  too 
wild  to  be  tolerated  in  it,  if  so  be  that  itching  ears  are 
pleased.  Yet  the  spiritual  thirst  in  us  makes  us  cling 
to  it,  —  as  trees  cling  to  the  storm-swept  rock,  embrac- 
ing its  bald  sides  with  their  living  roots,  while  they 
seek  the  nourishment  of  the  good  soil  on  which  it 
rests.  If  we,  whom  God  has  set  to  preach  the  gospel, 
are  true  to  this  divine  thirst  in  men,  we  have  nothing 
to  fear.  The  time  can  never  come  when  our  occupa- 
tion shall  be  gone.  It  wiU  be  appreciated  more  and 
more,  as  men  more  deeply  feel  their  spiritual  wants. 
Our  grand  business  is  not  with  their  secular  interests, 
but  with  that  in  them  which  makes  them  heirs  of  eter- 
nity and  the  children  of  God.  Let  us  take  a  lesson 
from  other  classes  of  workers,  and  be  as  devoted  to 
our  high  calling  as  they  are  to  their  eartlily  vocations. 
Let  us  speak  to  that  in  men  which  can  never  die. 
Let  us  brino-  them  the  water  of  life  and  the  bread  of 
heaven.  Let  us  do  what  we  can  to  keep  them  from 
going  maimed  and  dwarfed  before  the  Great  White 
Throne ;  what  we  can  to  present  them,  in  that  august 


106  SERMONS. 

Presence,  developed  to  the   utmost  in  their  spiritual 
nature,  without  spot  or  wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing. 

Now  the  one  object  to  which  men's  minds  should  be 
turned,  in  order  to  this  spiritual  culture,  is  God  Him- 
self. He  is  a  Spirit,  as  our  text  teaches ;  and  there- 
fore He  cannot  be  approached,  or  His  attributes  be 
contemplated,  save  in  that  exercise  of  our  S23iritual 
faculties  which  shall  lift  them  up,  and  unfold  and 
beautify  them.  Our  spirits  are  placed  over  the  works 
of  His  hands ;  and  if  they  turn  back  on  those  works 
to  find  nutriment,  they  necessarily  grow  downward ; 
they  become  like  a  vine  dropping  away  from  the  noble 
trellis  built  above  it,  and  soiling  itself  by  groveling  in 
the  dust  beneath.  It  is  so  important  to  us  that  we 
should  see  God,  and  grow  upward  around  Him,  that 
He  has  made  His  being  an  omnipresent  and  self-evi- 
dent truth  to  our  minds.  He  is  not  far  from  every 
one  of  us ;  and  we  cannot  go  from  His  presence,  or 
escape  from  His  Spirit.  He  reveals  Himself  to  babes. 
We  believe  in  Him  before  we  believe  in  anything  else  ; 
and  nothing  else  more  shocks  the  unperverted  mind 
than  the  attempt  to  prove  that  there  is  a  God.  As 
well  attempt  to  prove  to  it  the  existence  of  the  air 
which  it  breathes,  or  of  the  sunlight  in  which  it  is 
glad.  The  heaven  in  which  God  dwells  lies  all  about 
us ;  and  we  cannot  help  believing  in  Him,  save  as  our 
spiritual  eye  is  weakened  and  dimmed.  Only  too 
quickly,  alas !  do  "  the  shades  of  our  prison-house " 
gather  about  "  the  growing  boy."  And  yet  our  belief 
in  God,  which  is  part  of  the  original  and  most  pre- 
cious ornament  of  the  soul,  cannot  be  utterly  effaced 
by  "  listlessness  "  or  "  mad  endeavor,"  or  by  ''  all  that 
is  at  enmity  with  joy."  The  divine  dream  is  in  us 
even  while  we  slumber ;  and  it  is  by  the  quickening 


SPIRITUAL    CULTURE.  107 

and  right  culture  of  our  benumbed  spirits  that  our 
God  will  return  to  us  in  all  the  glory  of  open  vision. 
His  own  life,  breathed  into  us  by  the  Holy  Ghost, 
awakes  us  to  His  presence ;  and  in  the  yearning  of 
that  new  life  we  go  out  after  Him  till  we  are  filled 
with  His  fullness.  What  a  life  was  that  which  holy 
men  of  old  lived  in  God,  out  of  which  they  wrote 
books,  rude  and  savage  though  they  were,  which  are 
the  wonder  of  the  world !  This  universe  was  to  them 
God's  vesture,  His  presence  the  inward  light  by  which 
they  read  its  tracery  of  symbols  and  letters  every- 
where. God  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth.  God 
made  man.  God  appointed  the  sun  to  rule  by  day, 
and  the  moon  by  night.  God  made  the  stars.  God 
gathered  the  waters  together.  God  said,  "  Let  there 
be  light."  God  made  the  firmament.  God  said,  "  Let 
the  dry  land  appear."  This  great  name  is  the  pillar 
of  fire  which  goes  before  us  all  our  way  through  the 
sacred  record.  The  patriarchs,  pitching  their  tents 
beneath  the  oaks,  and  leading  their  flocks  by  the 
water-brooks ;  Israel  in  Egypt,  and  in  the  desert,  in 
the  midst  of  wonders  and  signs;  judges  and  kings, 
prophets  and  psalmists,  and  in  later  times  holy  evan- 
gelists and  apostles,  —  were  made  to  feel  that  the  one 
grand  fact  of  the  universe  is  God.  The  heavens  de- 
clared to  them  the  glory  of  God.  The  fact  that  the 
earth  is  full  of  God's  wisdom  was  what  gave  it  value 
in  their  eyes.  To  them  the  light  was  not  a  thing  by 
itself,  but  the  garment  with  which  God  covered  Him- 
self ;  and  the  transfigured  clouds  charmed  them,  not 
by  reason  of  their  own  splendors,  but  because  they 
were  God's  pavilion.  The  waters  were  the  place 
where  God  laid  the  beams  of  His  chambers,  and  the 
winds  would  be  nothing  if  God  did  not  walk  on  their 


108  SERMOXS. 

wings.  The  trees  of  Lebanon  were  God's  trees ;  and 
the  springs,  and  the  rocks,  and  the  grass,  and  the  birtls, 
the  night  and  the  day,  the  sea  and  sky,  and  hills  and 
valleys,  were  the  works  of  God's  wisdom  and  power. 
Everything  that  had  breath  was  called  upon  to  praise 
God.  The  vapor  and  hail  and  snow  were  a  part  of 
the  divine  anthem.  To  the  hills  it  was  said.  Rejoice 
on  every  side ;  and  to  the  floods.  Clap  your  hands. 
The  Bible  is  God's  book,  not  only  because  He  inspired 
men  to  write  it,  but  also  because  He  is  its  one  vast 
theme.  His  presence  all  through  it  is  what  makes  it 
the  Book  of  books ;  and  we  need  nothing  else  so  much 
as  to  find  Him  in  it,  and  to  cleave  fast  unto  Him  with 
a  solemn  joy,  as  those  old  writers  did.  This  divine 
society,  and  steady  gazing  on  the  face  of  God,  made 
them  wondrously  great  in  all  their  spiritual  faculties, 
however  dwarfed  in  other  things.  And  why  should 
not  a  like  divine  contact  do  for  us,  in  our  measure, 
what  it  did  for  them  ?  It  will  do  that  same  blessed 
work  for  us  ;  it  will  unfold  and  transfigure  us  in  spirit, 
as  it  did  them.  God  has  given  the  appropriate  means 
for  our  education  in  every  other  respect,  but  for  the 
education  of  our  spirits  He  offers  us  Himself.  Because 
we  are  His  children,  because  we  are  above  His  other 
works,  so  that  they  can  never  do  anything  for  the 
spirit  but  draw  it  downward.  He  unveils  His  gracious 
face.  His  benign  presence  surrounds  us.  ''  Look 
unto  Me,  all  the  ends  of  the  earth,"  is  His  loving  ap- 
peal. The  divine  possibilities  in  us  throb  with  life 
the  moment  we  touch  Him ;  and  by  pressing  boldly 
to  His  seat,  and  gazing  steadfastly  upon  Him,  we  are 
changed  into  the  same  image  from  glory  to  glory. 

And  it  is  by  worshiping  God  that  this   great  boon 
—  the  education  of  the  soul  —  is  to  be  ours.     I  do 


SPIRITUAL   CULTURE.  109 

not  mean  to  decry  all  inquiries  about  God,  or  all 
studies  into  His  government  and  councils.  Yet  God 
does  not  become  to  us  that  which  we  most  need  while 
we  aj)proach  Him  in  a  merely  speculative,  critical,  or 
inquisitive  mood.  It  is  in  the  attitude  of  worship 
that  we  must  meet  Him.  Our  spirits  must  have  a 
longing  unto  Him.  They  must  be  open  to  the  bread 
which  He  gives,  and  receptive  of  it.  They  must  feel 
within  themselves  an  emptiness  which  the  tides  of  His 
mighty  love  alone  fill.  The  soid  which  truly  wor- 
ships is  not  merely  passive.  Nothing  could  be  more 
intensely  active.  Yet  it  is  receptive ;  the  peculiarity 
of  its  state  is,  that  it  is  open  to  receive  the  floods  of 
life  which  flow  down  into  it  out  of  the  fatherly  heart 
of  God.  Nor  is  this  receptive  attitude  peculiar  to 
w^orship.  There  must  be  somewhat  of  it,  or  there  can 
be  no  gain  to  the  mind  in  any  respect.  Lord  Bacon 
teaches  us  that  we  cannot  know  Nature  till  we  come 
to  her  to  be  taught.  Humility  is  the  threshold  of 
every  temple  of  knowledge  which  we  seek  to  enter. 
We  must  not  affect  to  lead,  but  must  be  wiUinsr  to  be 
led,  if  we  would  make  the  least  progress.  Truth  flies 
away  from  the  inhospitable  mind  ;  but  she  loves  to 
visit  and  fill  the  open  soul.  If  this  be  so  in  all  the 
lower  sciences,  how  much  more  when  we  come  to  the 
knowledge  of  God!  Who  can  be  otherwise  than 
lowly,  reverent,  and  emptied  of  self,  when  he  meets 
the  infinite  God  face  to  face?  In  his  hunger  and 
thirst  of  spirit,  how  sweet  to  him  to  open  the  door, 
that  God  may  come  in  and  sup  with  him,  and  he  with 
God !  And  if  adoration,  reverence,  worship,  be  the 
feeling  which  God's  presence  is  fitted  to  stir  in  each 
soul,  how  much  deeper  the  emotion  when  we  are  as- 
sembled in  large  numbers !     We  are  quickened,  soft- 


110  SERMONS. 

ened,  laid  open  in  spirit  to  the  incoming  of  God,  by 
the  exercises  of  public  worship.  Then  it  is  that  God 
comes  down  upon  us  as  rain  upon  the  mown  grass,  as 
showers  that  water  the  earth.  Worn  and  jaded  at  the 
end  of  the  week,  our  spirits  are  like  a  stretch  of  sea- 
shore at  low  tide,  —  the  river  channels  empty,  the  har- 
bor bare,  the  boats  and  shijDs  lying  upon  their  sides  on 
the  sand  banks  or  in  the  mire.  But  when  we  are  met 
together  in  the  house  of  God,  all  our  souls  turned  unto 
Him  as  the  eyes  of  a  maiden  to  her  mistress,  the 
scene  begins  to  be  changed.  The  incoming  waves  of 
divine  love  meet  our  spiritual  yearnings.  We  are  no 
longer  empty,  but  filled  with  the  fullness  of  God.  Our 
sense  of  weariness  departs.  The  cloud  of  worldly 
cares  recedes.  That  which  is  greatest  in  us,  which  is 
divine  and  cannot  die,  begins  to  be  refreshed.  We 
forget  our  sins,  our  infirmities,  our  errors  of  judgment 
and  conduct,  while  we  bathe  ourselves  in  the  inflowing- 
life  of  God.  The  capacities  of  our  spirit,  its  larger 
channels,  and  each  smallest  and  most  inmost  recess, 
receive  more  of  that  life  than  they  can  hold.  The 
blessed  refreshment  rises  over  the  banks.  The  whole 
plain  of  our  humanity  is  enflooded  ;  and  everything 
upon  us,  or  within  or  around,  turns  out  its  beauty, 
and  rests  and  rejoices  in  a  brightness  which  is  fairer 
than  the  sunlight,  in  a  dawn  which  is  clearer  and 
sweeter  than  any  summer  morning.  Whatever  our 
patient  studies,  and  our  investigations  of  divine  truth, 
may  do  for  us,  when  we  begin  to  worship  God  our 
souls  are  like  the  earth  to  which  the  sun  is  coming 
back  after  the  long  winter.  The  winding-sheet  of 
spiritual  death  disappears ;  the  icy  fetters  of  worldli- 
ness  are  melted  off ;  our  deeper  instincts  feel  the  ge- 
nial warmth ;  each  loftiest  faculty  in  us  covers  itself 
with  verdure,  and  every  tenderest  possibility  of  the 


SPIRITUAL   CULTURE.  Ill 

soul  springs  forth  anew.  Our  whole  higher  nature 
grows  and  blooms,  and  our  peace  and  joy  are  full  in 
that  Fatherly  Presence  in  which  we  live  and  move. 

Such  is  the  sacred  end  —  the  high  spiritual  culture 
attainable  only  through  the  devout  worship  of  God 
—  to  which  we  dedicate  this  pulpit  and  its  two  sacra- 
ments, one  on  either  hand ;  to  which  we  dedicate  its 
pews  and  aisles,  its  storied  windows,  its  carved  and 
frescoed  walls,  its  many-voiced  organ,  its  timbers  and 
roof  which  bend  so  lovingly  over  us  from  above,  — 
praying  that  all  who  worship  here  may  grow  to  be,  like 
its  own  massive  and  lofty  tower,  larger  in  their  man- 
hood, and  more  beautified  and  adorned  in  those  parts 
which  are  nearest  to  the  sky. 

That  this  great  blessing  of  spiritual  culture  might 
come  to  you  and  your  children,  and  to  as  many  as 
choose  to  cast  in  their  lot  with  you,  you  have  under- 
gone the  sore  trial  of  a  removal  from  your  old  to  this 
new  house  of  worship.  How  slowly,  how  unwillingly, 
and  how  sadly  you  yielded  to  that  trial,  is  known  to 
yourselves  and  to  God.  Some  of  you  bear  names 
which  stand  on  the  first  records  of  our  venerable 
church.  You  had  associations  with  the  former  place, 
tender  memories  of  it,  and  a  loving  attachment  to  it, 
which  those  who  have  criticised  your  action  before  the 
public  cannot  understand.  If  they  had  known  how 
faintly,  and  but  partially,  their  love  for  the  ancient 
sanctuary  reflected  yours,  I  believe  they  would  have 
tried  to  strengthen  rather  than  weaken  your  hands, 
seeing  that  your  love  made  you  slow  to  act,  and  that 
you  acted  only  as  you  were  urged  forward  by  the  all- 
compelling  hand  of  God. 

There  you  were  surrounded  by  a  cloud  of  secular 
and  patriotic  memories,  which  obscured  the  spiritual 
history  of  our  church ;  but  here  that  spiritual  history 


112  SERMONS. 

may  come  out  into  the  light,  and  be  made  an  incentive 
to  soul-ciilture  upon  you  and  your  families.  There 
you  had  no  convenience  whatsoever  for  a  Sunday- 
school,  for  a  prayer-meeting,  or  for  a  social  gathering, 
all  of  which  you  are  amply  provided  for  here.  There, 
as  you  found  and  as  others  found,  worshiping  assem- 
blies could  not  be  gathered  after  nightfall ;  and  even 
your  Sabbath  worship  was  often  marred  by  rude 
noises,  necessary  or  unnecessary,  in  the  streets :  but 
what  was  yearly  growing  more  unfavorable  there  wiU, 
we  believe,  yearly  grow  more  favorable  here.  There 
you  were  isolated  from  other  Christian  churches,  lack- 
ing all  opportunity  to  welcome  them  to  your  sanctuary, 
for  those  general  religious  meetings  occurring  for  the 
most  part  on  secular  days,  which  enter  so  largely  into 
the  present  methods  of  the  church ;  but  here  you  can 
take  your  proper  place  in  those  evangelistic  efforts 
which  are  common  to  the  entire  brotherhood,  and  so 
do  your  part  toward  fulfilling  that  blessed  ministry 
by  which  each  member  is  to  supply  unto  the  other 
members  something  which  they  lack,  that  the  whole 
body  may  make  increase  to  the  edifying  of  itself  in 
love. 

Take  this  building,  O  thou  great  Head  of  the 
Church,  to  whom  we  now  bring  it.  Take  it,  and  take 
us  with  it.  Make  it  thine  own  temple,  and  make  us 
thy  living  temples.  Use  it  for  the  glory  of  thy  King- 
dom, and  keep  us  the  loyal  subjects  of  that  Kingdom. 
Spare  it  only  so  long  as  it  shall  serve  thy  loving  pur- 
poses, and  spare  and  bless  us  only  that  we  may  de- 
clare thy  name.  When  its  noble  walls  must  crumble, 
teach  thy  people  to  bow  in  the  faith  of  something 
better  to  come ;  and  when  our  spirits  must  be  un- 
clothed of  their  earthly  house,  may  they  rise  to  be 
clothed  upon  with  the  house  which  is  from  heaven ! 


NEW-BORN  SOULS  THE  GLORY   OF   THE 
CHURCH.i 

And  of  Zion  it  shall  be  said,  This  and  that  man  was  born  in  her.  — 
PsAXMS  Ixxxvii.  5. 

The  assertion  which  these  words  contain  is  made 
three  times  in  the  brief  Psahn  from  whicli  they  are 
taken.  The  Psahn  itself  is  a  celebrati(m  of  the  glory 
of  Zion  ;  and  that  glory  is  made  to  spring  out  of  the 
single  fact  that  Zion  is  the  birthplace  of  men.  Nor 
is  there  any  reference  to  natural  or  physical  birth,  as 
we  shall  see  if  we  examine  the  words.  It  is  as  the 
birthplace  of  souls  that  Zion  is  celebrated.  Out  of 
her  shall  go  forth  a  quickening  power  which  shall 
touch  and  renew  the  spirits  of  men.  This  power  is 
to  reach  Egypt  and  Babylon,  Philistia,  Tyre,  and 
Ethiopia  ;  so  that  it  shall  be  said  of  the  dweller  in  the 
most  remote  of  those  countries.  This  man  was  born 
in  Zion.  If  any  church,  as  for  instance  this  church, 
sends  an  influence  to  the  other  side  of  the  globe, 
which  there  brings  men  to  Christ,  those  men  will 
regard  this  church  as  their  spiritual  birthplace.  And 
so,  too,  will  God  regard  it,  not  only  now,  but  when  He 
numbers  His  jewels  in  the  end  of  the  world.  The 
language  of  the  Psalm  is,  "The  Lord  shall  count, 
when  He  writeth  up  the  people,  that  this  man  was 
born  there." 

^  Preached  December  26,  1875,  the  Sabbath  after  the  dedication  of 
the  chui-ch. 


114  SERMONS. 

We  are  therefore  invited  to  consider  the  fact  that 
Zion,  either  the  whole  Church  or  our  own  local  Church, 
is  distinctively  the  place  where  souls  are  converted  to 
Christ.  The  glory  of  our  Church  is  proportioned  to 
its  success  in  this  work.  It  is  in  view  of  such  a  work 
that  the  Psalmist  says,  "  Glorious  things  are  spoken 
of  thee,  O  city  of  God."  The  honor  of  our  Church, 
throughout  all  time  and  in  eternity,  is  to  arise  from 
the  fact  that  God  can  point  to  one,  and  another,  and 
another  of  the  mighty  host  of  the  redeemed,  and  say, 
"  This  man  and  that  man  was  born  in  her." 

It  will  help  us  to  feel  the  force  of  this  statement  if 
we  consider  a  little  how  various  places  in  our  world 
have  been  ennobled  by  having  the  names  of  great  and 
good  men  associated  with  them.  Though  the  state- 
ment itself  refers  to  spiritual  things,  there  is  in  it  an 
analogy  to  our  more  common  and  temporal  life.  How 
many  localities  there  are  in  our  world  which  we  cross 
oceans  to  visit ;  whose  names  are  household  words, 
never  spoken  without  sending  a  thrill  through  our 
hearts,  yet  in  which  we  should  not  take  the  least  inter- 
est but  for  the  men  who  were  born  in  them,  or  who 
there  labored !  The  little  district  of  Ayrshire,  in  Scot- 
land, owes  its  fame  to  our  admiration,  our  love,  and 
our  pity  for  the  poet  Robert  Burns.  Take  his  name 
away  from  it,  and  its  charm  would  be  gone.  A  statue 
was  recently  erected  at  Bedford  in  honor  of  John 
Bunyan ;  and  how  many  of  us  would  know  that  there 
is  such  a  town  in  England  but  for  the  fact  that  Bun- 
yan made  it  glorious  by  there  writing,  in  its  jail  and 
in  his  blindness,  the  "  Pilgrim's  Progress "  ?  The 
name  of  Kidderminster  would  be  commonplace  to  us, 
associated  as  it  is  with  the  manufacture  of  a  certain 
cheap  style  of  carpet,  were  it  not  lifted  up  and  en- 


NEW-BORN   SOULS.  116 

nobled  by  the  fact  that  Kichard  Baxter  there  preached, 
and  wrote  his  "  Saint's  Everlasting  Rest."  Stratford- 
upon-Avon  is  an  ancient  town,  with  buildings  in  it 
which  appeal  to  the  traveler's  love  of  antiquity ;  but 
that  which  gives  it  its  peculiar  glory  is  the  name  of 
Shakspeare.  Its  people  would  sooner  part  with  all 
else  which  distinguishes  it  than  with  this  single  treas- 
ure. The  power  of  men  to  make  illustrious  the  cities 
and  countries  which  gave  them  birth  is  felt  amid  the 
ruins  of  Athens  and  of  ancient  Rome.  How  men 
search  for  the  slightest  traces  of  Homer ;  how  they 
burrow  for  the  palaces  of  Nimrod  and  Priam  !  What 
joy  thrills  the  world  of  scholars  when  a  Rosetta  stone, 
a  Moabite  stone,  or  other  key  to  some  ancient  alphabet 
is  found !  It  is  human  footprints  amid  the  remains  of 
old  civilizations,  the  e\ddence  that  men  there  strug- 
gled, and  great  minds  thought  and  wrote,  which  make 
them  venerable  in  our  eyes.  Go  into  any  modern 
hamlet,  even  of  our  own  land,  and  the  first  boast  of 
its  people  will  be  the  distinguished  men  it  has  given 
to  the  world.  New  Hampshire  can  never  forget  that 
it  was  the  birthplace  of  Daniel  AVebster,  nor  Virginia 
that  she  produced  Washington  and  Jefferson.  The 
pride  of  our  own  city  is,  not  her  material  prosperity, 
great  as  that  may  be,  but  the  men  born  here,  in  every 
generation  since  the  days  of  Franklin,  whom  the  na- 
tions have  delighted  to  honor. 

But  I  need  not  follow  this  path  any  further. 
Enough  has  been  said  to  make  clear  the  fact  that 
towns  and  cities  and  countries  become  illustrious  just 
to  the  extent  that  they  raise  up  men  who  confer  great 
benefits  on  the  race.  They  cannot  depend  on  their 
wealth  or  their  antiquity  to  make  them  respected.  It 
is  the  names  of  those  born  in  them,  names  shining  as 


116  SERMONS. 

stars,  which  make  them  glorious  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world.  Whatever  else  there  may  be  in  them  which 
invites  our  notice,  gathers  all  its  charm  from  these. 

Now  this  is  the  analogy  which  runs  underneath  the 
statement  in  our  text.  The  serious  lesson  pressed 
home  to  us  is,  that  our  Church  can  grow  beautiful  and 
venerable  only  as  it  is  the  instrument  of  salvation  to 
men  ;  that  it  must  do  its  proper  work ;  that  it  cannot 
make  itself  respected  by  anything  which  appeals  but 
to  the  senses ;  that  God  will  bless  it,  and  men  wiU 
venerate  it,  only  as  they  are  able  to  point  to  new-born 
souls  and  say,  "  This  man  and  that  man  was  born  in 
her." 

But  while  we  observe  this  analogy  between  the 
Church  and  common  history,  we  are  also  to  note  a  dif- 
ference —  a  difference  which  is  greatly  in  the  Church's 
favor.  It  is  exceptional  men  —  men  conspicuous  for 
their  great  talents  and  achievements  —  who  make 
their  birthplaces  famous  in  common  history.  But 
whosoever  is  least  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  greater 
than  these.  Zion  is  not  beholden  for  her  glory  to 
those  who  are  great  in  human  history.  On  the  things 
which  are  least  honorable  she  bestows  more  abundant 
honor,  with  a  divine  scorn  of  earthly  distinctions.  To 
be  an  immortal  spirit  is  itself  so  great  a  thing  that 
other  greatness  vanishes  away  in  view  of  it.  Ther.e  is 
no  exchange  for  the  soul  —  for  any  soul.  What  shall 
it  profit  a  man,  though  he  be  the  weakest  and  hum- 
blest of  men,  if  he  gain  the  whole  world  at  the  cost 
of  his  soul  ?  Therefore  not  only  those  disciples  whom 
common  history  honors,  but  all  others  who  are  truly 
born  of  God,  make  Zion  glorious.  And  hence  it  be- 
comes purely  a  question  of  numbers,  —  not  of  numbers 
who  are  merely  drawn  together  externally,  but  who 


NEW-BORN  SOULS.  117 

hear,  who  obey ;  who,  in  deed  and  in  truth,  bow  to 
Christ  as  their  King  and  the  Saviour  of  their  souls. 
No  one  could  do  more  for  the  glory  of  the  Church 
than  the  poor  widow  did  when  she  gave  her  two  mites. 
All  souls  are  infinitely  precious ;  and  in  view  of  this 
truth,  the  disciple  most  honored  after  the  manner  of 
men  can  well  afford  to  stand  on  a  level  with  the  least 
honored.  The  same  divine  Comforter  has  begotten 
them  all  from  the  dead.  God's  well-beloved  Son  is 
the  elder  Brother  of  them  all.  There  is  no  difference, 
but  they  all  shine  with  an  equal  lustre,  if  they  are 
indeed  lively  stones  in  the  temple  of  our  God.  Are 
you  the  lowliest  of  God's  children?  O  my  dear 
friend,  just  believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and 
come  ^vith  us  after  Him,  and  your  birth  into  the  king- 
dom here  shall  more  honor  our  church  than  all  this 
building  with  its  goodly  stones.  I  love  to  think  that 
this  peculiarity  of  the  Church  —  all  distinctions  van- 
ishing, and  each  one  alike  glorifying  it  before  God  — 
is  observed  in  the  sublime  descriptions  of  heaven  by 
St.  John.  There  all  the  worshipers,  however  lifted 
up  one  above  another  for  a  little  while  on  earth,  con- 
stitute the  one  blessed  host  who  bow  before  the  throne 
of  God  and  the  Lamb.  John  saw  that  there  were  an 
hundred  and  forty  and  four  thousand  of  them;  but 
none  of  their  names  were  given.  Nothing  was  said 
of  David  and  the  other  great  men  of  Judah,  but  only 
that  of  the  tribe  of  Judah  were  sealed  twelve  thou- 
sand ;  nothing  was  said  of  Samuel  and  other  great 
men  of  his  tribe,  but  only  that  there  were  sealed 
of  his  tribe  twelve  thousand.  And  so  on  through 
the  remaining  tribes.  Each  member  of  the  bright- 
robed  comjjany  is  designated  simply  as  a  unit  in  the 
whole  number,  as  this  man  or  that  man,  with  a  sub- 


118  SERMONS. 

lime  disregard  of  all  temporary  distinctions.  Every- 
one of  them  is  so  precious  that  no  one  can  be  valued 
above  another.  They  are  all  stars  in  the  Redeemer's 
crown.  Severally,  and  in  clusters,  they  constitute  the 
glory  of  the  Church  in  which  they  were  born. 

Have  you  ever  thought,  my  dear  Christian  brethren 
and  friends,  that  a  time  is  coming,  in  the  far-off  cycles 
of  eternity,  when  these  births  of  souls  in  the  Church 
will  be  almost  the  only  memorial  left  of  this  present 
world  ?  You  remember  Christ  said  that  His  kingdom 
is  not  of  this  world ;  and  in  a  great  many  places  we 
read  that  the  earth  which  we  now  inhabit,  and  the 
heavens  around  it,  are  to  pass  away.  "  They  shall 
pass  away  with  a  great  noise,"  says  the  apostle  Peter ; 
"  and  the  elements  shall  melt  with  fervent  heat ;  and 
the  earth,  and  the  works  which  are  therein,  shall  be 
burned  up."  The  solemn  fact  that  what  we  now  call 
the  world  is  not  to  endure,  but  to  perish  when  its  pur- 
pose is  fulfilled,  our  Lord  notices  again  and  again, 
and  especially  in  the  words  to  His  disciples  when  He 
wept  over  Jerusalem.  His  kingdom,  as  all  Scripture 
teaches,  is  the  only  everlasting  kingdom,  His  govern- 
ment the  only  one  of  which  there  shall  be  no  end. 
And  you,  if  you  obey  Christ,  are  the  subjects  of  that 
government ;  you,  in  virtue  of  your  union  to  the  Son  of 
God,  are  citizens  of  that  kingdom.  And  you  shall  stand 
before  that  divine  King  in  His  imperishable  realm, 
when  the  great  globe,  with  its  cloud-capped  towers 
and  gorgeous  palaces,  has  disappeared  from  view.  In 
that  clear  and  eternal  day,  you  will  be  this  poor  earth's 
memorial.  You  will  stand  there  as  its  monument,  and 
will  recall  it  to  the  minds  of  the  heavenly  choirs,  as 
you  move  about  in  their  shining  company.  Great 
events  of  a  temporal  nature,  and  volumes  of  secular 


NEW-BORN   SOULS.  119 

history,  now  filling  so  large  a  space  in  our  horizon, 
bear  no  relation  to  that  endless  life.  As  a  vesture 
they  change,  and  shall  be  changed.  They  shall  be 
folded  up  and  laid  aside ;  but  God's  years  cannot  fail, 
and  our  new  life  which  we  have  in  Him  shall  never 
end.  Renewed  and  purified  souls,  dwelling  in  that 
bright  country,  will  forever  keep  fresh  the  names  of 
the  churches  on  earth  where  they  first  tasted  the  good 
word  of  God.  Those  places  most  intimately  con- 
nected with  Christ's  work,  and  where  the  largest  num- 
ber of  souls  have  been  born  into  His  kingdom,  will 
most  attract  the  gaze  of  the  heavenly  inhabitants. 

Of  course  Betlilehem,  where  Christ  was  born,  as 
this  pleasant  Christmas-tide  reminds  us,  can  never 
be  forgotten.  All  the  work  of  salvation,  here  and 
throughout  the  world,  comes  within  the  mission  of 
Christ.  His  cross  makes  our  entire  globe  sacred,  and 
embalms  it  forevermore.  No  angel  or  archangel  can 
be  indifferent  to  a  world  on  which  He  lived  and 
taught,  and  where  He  laid  down  His  life  that  an 
estranged  race  might  be  redeemed.  The  stars,  which 
are  the  churches,  may  shine  in  their  strength  ;  but  He 
will  walk  in  the  midst  of  them.  He  will  hold  them  in 
His  right  hand.  He  is  the  Head  of  the  Church  uni- 
versal, of  that  one  great  Zion  which  includes  all  lesser 
Zions.  Unto  the  gates  of  this  common  Zion  new- 
born souls  are  continually  pressing.  The  north  gives 
up,  the  south  keeps  not  back;  the  sons  come  from 
far,  and  her  daughters  from  the  ends  of  the  earth. 
The  tents  of  Kedar,  the  desert  lands,  and  the  islands 
are  looking  unto  her,  whence  the  perfection  of  beauty 
shone.  These  gatherings  into  the  family  of  God 
will  never  be  forgotten.  When  the  spirits  of  just 
men   have   ceased   to   ask   about  great  empires  and 


120  SERMONS. 

famous  battles,  they  will  wish  to  know  the  histories  of 
their  glorified  companions,  —  of  this  man,  who  was 
born  of  God  in  China ;  of  that  man,  who  was  born 
of  God  in  Madagascar ;  of  one,  and  another,  and  an- 
other, more  than  we  can  count,  of  whom  it  sliall  be 
said  that  they  were  born  in  Zion :  some  on  the  sea, 
and  some  on  the  land ;  some  in  the  forests,  and  some 
in  the  cities ;  some  in  that  pagan  country,  and  some 
in  this  centre  of  Christian  light.  They  were  all  born, 
not  of  flesh  and  blood,  nor  of  the  wiU  of  man,  but  of 
God ;  and  they  will  keep  fresh  throughout  eternal 
ages  the  names  of  the  places  where  their  new  life 
began.  The  name  of  Philippi  will  be  kept  fresh  by 
the  jailer  who  there  believed  on  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  Athens  will  be  remembered  for  the  sake  of 
Dionysius  and  the  woman  named  Damaris.  There 
are  long  lists  of  names,  both  in  the  Old  Testament 
and  the  New,  which  we  are  apt  to  "  skip  "  in  our  read- 
ing of  the  Bible.  They  are  hard  to  pronounce,  and 
without  meaning  in  our  ears.  But  those  names  belong 
to  God's  saints.  They  are  precious  in  His  eyes,  and 
He  has  graven  them  on  the  palms  of  His  hands.  It 
is  well  for  us  that  we  have  them ;  for  they  are  a  con- 
stant admonition  to  us  of  the  new  light  which  is  to 
break  over  this  world  in  the  far-off  future.  Our  pres- 
ent way  of  looking  at  things  is  to  be  entirely  reversed. 
What  we  now  regard  as  obscure  or  unmeaning  will 
then  shine  forth  as  the  sun,  and  personages  and 
events  now  venerable  in  our  eyes  will  sink  down  out 
of  sight.  It  is  possible  that  in  heaven  we  shall  hear 
no  such  names  spoken  as  Alexander,  and  Caesar,  and 
Napoleon  ;  but  we  shall  there  hear  such  names  as  Pris- 
cilla,  and  Junia,  and  Amplias,  and  Tryphena,  and 
Sosipater,  and  Stephanas,  and  Archippus,  and  Pudens, 


NEW-BORN  SOULS,  121 

and  Claudia.  All  those  hard  names  shall  grow  easy 
and  familiar  to  us  in  the  celestial  dialect,  as  we  trace 
them  one  after  another  to  the  redeemed  spirits  who 
bear  them ;  as  we  look  back  with  that  blessed  multi- 
tude, and  realize  that  our  conversion  to  Christ  was 
the  one  thing  which  gave  our  earthly  life  all  its  value. 
I  love  to  turn  over  the  pages  of  church  manuals, 
especially  those  of  our  own.  There  whole  columns 
of  names  meet  my  eye,  which  have  for  me  almost  no 
meaning.  But  I  know  that  they  have  a  meaning, 
which  shall  one  day  come  to  me.  The  stars  are  in- 
visible to  my  mortal  sight ;  but  I  shall  see  them,  shin- 
ing as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament,  when  I  have 
entered  into  the  kingdom  of  my  Father.  Everything 
else  in  regard  to  our  beloved  Church  may  be  forgotten, 
—  all  its  external  history,  all  its  houses  of  worship,  aU 
secular  events  connected  with  it ;  but  the  long  succes- 
sion of  redeemed  souls,  whose  names  are  a  blank  to 
us,  shall  keep  its  memory  fresh  and  immortal.  How 
glad  the  experience,  while  we  are  sitting  together  on 
those  heavenly  hills,  talking  over  all  the  way  by  which 
our  Lord  led  us  in  this  Church,  if  we  shall  see  a  large 
company  gathering  about  us,  listening  intently,  and 
saying,  as  often  as  they  catch  the  dear  name,  "  This 
one,  and  that  one,  was  born  in  her ; "  and  so  introduc- 
ing themselves  to  us  as  our  kindred  in  Christ  after  an 
especial  manner  I 

Now  why  will  we  not  take  up  the  words  of  the  text 
this  morning,  and  make  them  the  voice  of  our  solemn 
purpose  before  God  ?  It  shall  be  said  of  Zion,  that 
this  and  that  man  was  born  in  her.  It  may  be  great 
boldness  in  me,  and  it  may  seem  very  bold  in  you, 
dear  Christian  brethren,  thus  to  resolve  with  ourselves 
in  our  hearts.     But  why  fear  to  have  this  determina- 


122  SERMONS. 

tion  fixed  in  us,  as  we  look  round  upon  our  friends 
who  yet  hesitate  ?  Is  there  any  one  among  us  whom 
we  shall  fail  to  bring  into  the  kingdom,  if  we  earnestly 
set  about  it  in  the  way  God  has  appointed  ?  No  mat- 
ter who  it  is,  whose  name  comes  into  your  thoughts  in 
this  solemn  hour,  you  may  have  faith  in  God's  prom- 
ise concerning  him ;  you  may  dare  to  affirm  that  he 
shall  be  born  in  this  Zion.  Parents  may  dare  to  say 
it  of  their  children,  teachers  of  their  scholars,  friend 
of  friend,  and  neighbor  of  neighbor.  Great  is  the 
power  of  prayer ;  great  is  the  power  of  Christian  ex- 
ample ;  great  is  the  power  of  gentle  but  persistent  en- 
treaty ;  and  all  these  are  within  your  power.  These 
are  the  weapons  of  our  warfare,  not  carnal,  but  spir- 
itual; and  God  will  make  them  mighty,  while  we 
faithfully  use  them,  to  the  accomplishment  of  our 
strong  desire. 

Dear  friends  not  yet  born  of  the  Spirit,  you  see 
how  much  the  glory  of  Christ's  kingdom  depends  on 
you.  It  is  you  that  He  came  to  seek  and  save.  It  is 
for  your  sake  that  He  has  set  up  His  throne ;  that  He 
lived,  and  died,  and  rose  again  ;  that  He  ascended  up 
on  high,  where  He  intercedes  at  the  right  hand  of  the 
Father.  Your  individual  >Adlls  are  concerned  in  that 
which  alone  is  to  make  our  earth  memorable.  The 
sublimest  event  which  the  sun  looks  on  in  all  his  cir- 
cuit is  the  entrance  of  a  soul  into  the  life  which  is 
hid  with  Christ  in  God.  It  is  the  only  experience 
possible  to  you  in  this  world  which  shall  shine  more 
brightly  upon  j^ou  the  farther  you  go  forward  into  the 
future  ;  and  when  other  events  and  experiences  are 
dimmed,  and  folded  up  with  the  forgotten  past,  this, 
ever  revealing  to  you  its  deeper  depths  of  joy  and 
sweetness,  shall  be  to  you  the  far  more  exceeding  and 


NEW-BORN  SOULS.  123 

eternal  weight  of  glory.  All  that  is  said  and  done 
here  by  the  devoted  members  of  this  Church,  or  by  its 
pastors  one  after  another,  cannot  preserve  its  memory 
if  it  ceases  to  be  the  birthplace  of  souls.  It  appeals 
to  you  to  perpetuate  its  name.  By  your  entrance  into 
Christ's  service  here,  but  by  no  other  means,  can  any- 
thins:  be  done  which  shall  cause  it  to  be  had  in  ever- 
lasting  remembrance. 

Think  of  all  the  thousands  whose  lives  have  ended 
during  the  year  now  about  to  close.  They  were  the 
young  and  the  old,  the  mighty  and  the  weak,  the  rich 
and  the  poor,  the  well  known  and  the  unknown,  the 
successful  and  the  disappointed.  But  what  are  all 
these  things  to  them  now,  —  their  ambitions,  their 
struggles,  their  triumphs,  their  failures,  their  rivalries, 
their  loves  and  their  hates  ?  So  much,  and  only  so 
much  to  them,  is  this  temporal  life  and  aU  that  per- 
tains to  it,  as  they  will  be  to  you  far  sooner  than  you 
think,  —  a  dream  when  one  awaketh.  Oh  that  morn- 
ing, that  everlasting  morning,  in  which  we  shall  ex- 
change the  seeming  for  the  real,  the  evanescent  for  the 
eternal !  AYhat  is  the  inheritance  to  which  you  shall 
then  awake  ?  Shall  you  then  be  startled  by  the  ter- 
rific words,  "  Son,  remember  that  thou  in  thy  lifetime 
receivedst  thy  good  things,"  or  shall  you  rise  up  joy- 
fully to  meet  your  Lord,  in  the  great  company  of  those 
to  whom  it  shall  be  said,  "  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my 
Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  before 
the  foundation  of  the  world  "  ? 


OBEYING  THE   HEAVENLY  VISION. 

Whereupon,  O  King-  Agrippa,  I  was  not  disobedient  unto  the  heav- 
enly vision.  —  Acts  xxvi.  19. 

St.  Paul  here  declares  to  us  just  how  it  was  that 
his  wonderful  life,  as  a  Christian  and  a  missionary  to 
the  Gentiles,  began :  he  obeyed  the  heavenly  vision  in 
which  the  will  of  God  concerning  him  was  brought  to 
his  knowledofe. 

What  is  this  heavenly  vision  ?  Are  any  of  us  see- 
ing it  at  the  present  time  ?  And  if  we  are,  what  are 
some  of  the  reasons  why  we  should  be  obedient  to  it  ? 

To  the  first  of  these  questions,  AVhat  is  the  heavenly 
vision?  I  answer  that  it  is  anything  by  which  God 
calls  men  to  His  service  in  the  kingdom  of  His  Son. 
Sometimes  the  heavenly  vision  is  to  those  already  in 
the  Church  of  Christ,  —  calling  them  to  some  special 
service,  such  as  the  ministry,  the  missionary  work,  the 
serving  of  tables,  the  instruction  of  the  young.  "  He 
gave  some,  apostles ;  and  some,  prophets ;  and  some, 
evangelists ;  and  some,  pastors  and  teachers."  And 
he  that  ministereth  is  to  wait  on  His  ministry;  he 
that  teacheth,  on  His  teaching ;  he  that  exhorteth,  on 
exhortation ;  he  that  giveth,  on  His  giving ;  he  that 
ruleth,  with  diligence ;  he  that  showeth  mercy,  with 
cheerfulness.  These  various  kinds  and  departments 
of  work,  to  which  God  calls  men  in  the  Church,  are 
for  tlie  perfecting  of  the  saints,  the  edifying  of  the 
body  of  Christ,  till  we  come  unto  the  measure  of  the 


OBEYIXG    THE   HEAVENLY   VISION.        125 

stature  of  the  fullness  of  Christ.  But  God  calls  men 
into  His  king'dom  before  assigning*  them  to  special 
sj^heres  in  it.  The  heavenly  vision  is  not  for  believers 
only,  it  is  more  especially  for  unbelievers.  St.  Paul 
connected  all  his  labors  as  an  apostle  back  with  his 
experience  in  the  road  to  Damascus.  That  is  the 
experience  on  which  he  lays  special  stress  in  speaking 
before  King  Agrippa.  The  heavenly  vision  came  to 
him  while  he  was  a  persecutor  exceedingly  mad  against 
the  name  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  breathing  out  threat- 
enings  and  slaughter  after  the  fleeing  Christians. 
There  was  something  peculiar  in  the  form,  and  in  the 
deoree  of  force,  with  which  the  Divine  will  was  made 
known  to  him ;  but  substantially  his  experience  did 
not  differ  from  that  of  all  men  whom  God  calls  by 
His  Spirit  to  repent  of  their  sins  and  come  after 
Cln-ist.  No  outward  miracle  or  manifestation  is  es- 
sential to  the  idea  of  this  heavenly  vision.  It  may 
be  wholly  inward  and  spiritual,  unnoticed  by  all  save 
those  to  whom  God  vouchsafes  it.  Have  you  had  the 
fact  revealed  to  you  that  your  life  does  not  conform 
to  the  law  of  God  ?  Have  you  felt  uneasy,  disturbed, 
restless  over  the  fact  that  you  must  meet  God  after 
death,  and  give  an  account  of  the  deeds  done  in  the 
body?  Under  the  pressure  of  this  guilt  and  fear, 
have  you  at  times  been  haK  persuaded  to  commit  your 
soul  to  Christ's  keeping  ?  Any  persons  who  have  thus 
felt,  and  been  thus  moved,  have  had  the  heavenly 
vision.  There  are  very  few  in  Christian  lands  who 
have  been  wholly  without  it.  Some  have  obeyed  it, 
and  are  now  following  Christ,  in  covenant  with  Him 
and  His  people ;  others  have  been  disobedient  to  it, 
and  stand  yet  apart,  as  they  did  before  the  vision 
came,  from  the  company  of  the  ransomed.     Agrippa 


126  SERMONS. 

had  tlie  heavenly  vision  when  he  said,  "  Ahnost  thou 
persuadest  me  to  be  a  Christian."  Felix  received  this 
same  vision  when  he  trembled  at  the  preaching  of 
Paul,  and  said,  "Go  thy  way  for  this  time;  when  I 
have  a  convenient  season  I  will  call  for  thee."  The 
well-instructed  scribe,  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of 
God,  saw  this  vision.  It  visited  the  young  ruler,  and 
he  rejected  it ;  the  woman  of  Samaria,  and  she  em- 
braced it.  Very  many  persons  of  whom  we  read  in 
Scripture  are  mentioned  chiefly  to  notice  the  fact  that 
they  received  the  heavenly  vision,  and  to  make  them  a 
warning  or  an  example  to  us,  according  as  they  heeded 
that  vision  or  were  disobedient  unto  it. 

Seeing,  now,  what  this  heavenly  vision  is,  I  think 
no  one  of  us  can  say  that  we  have  all  our  lives  long 
been  wholly  without  it.  I  think  we  must  own,  with- 
out exception,  that  it  has  come  to  us  many  times  ;  that 
it  has  hovered  before  us  from  the  time  to  which  our 
memory  goes  back,  —  now  obscured  by  devotion  to 
earthly  affairs,  now  revealing  itself  more  vividly  as 
our  souls  have  been  turned  to  it  in  quickened  and 
earnest  thought.  Are  there  not  some  here  to  whom 
that  vision  is  coming  to-day  ?  They  are  now  feeling 
their  sinfulness  against  God,  and  their  need  of  Christ 
and  His  salvation.  They  cannot  resist  the  feeling 
that  somehow  Jesus  of  Nazareth  is  passing  by  them, 
as  He  passed  by  the  way  in  which  Bartimseus  was 
sitting.  And  they  feel  within  them  an  impulse  to  cry 
out,  even  as  he  cried,  saying,  "  Have  mercy  on  me, 
thou  Son  of  David."  They  feel  the  impulse  ;  that  is, 
the  heavenly  vision :  will  they  yield  to  that  impulse 
and  commit  their  souls  to  Christ,  or  will  they  be  dis- 
obedient to  it  ?  As  vessels  headed  toward  the  harbor 
feel  the  breeze  which  comes  up  from  the  ocean  and 


OBEYING    THE   HEAVENLY  VISION.         127 

fills  their  sails,  so  are  there  those  here,  I  believe,  who 
feel  the  sweet  gales  of  the  divine  love  blowing  upon 
them,  and  who  are  half  persuaded  to  weigh  anchor, 
and  enter  into  the  rest  and  shelter  which  are  offered 
them  in  Christ  Jesus.  But  will  they  be  wholly  per- 
suaded? Will  they  obey  the  heavenly  vision,  or  re- 
sist it  ?  Will  they  be  Pauls,  or  Felixes  and  Agrippas  ? 
The  vision  may  never  again  be  so  distinct  as  it  now  is  ; 
the  sense  of  personal  unworthiness  so  full  and  j^ene- 
trating,  the  glory  of  Christ  so  bright  and  ravishing, 
the  life  of  godliness  so  noble  and  attractive.  You  see 
the  city  of  refuge,  its  shining  domes,  its  strong  towers, 
its  safe  walls  with  their  gates  open  to  receive  you : 
will  you  hasten  into  it  while  the  impulse  is  strong 
upon  your  soul,  or  wait  till  the  avenger  of  blood  over- 
takes you  ?  Almost  is  not  wholly.  Conviction  of  sin 
is  not  faith  in  Christ.  To  feel  that  you  ought  to  re- 
pent is  not  the  same  thing  as  repentance.  You  may 
hear  Christ  knock,  but  that  is  not  opening  the  door 
and  letting  Him  in.  He  may  be  passing  by,  but  that 
does  not  bring  you  to  His  feet.  Though  He  is  to  be 
found,  you  will  find  Him  only  as  you  seek  Him.  He 
is  near,  but  that  will  not  save  you  if  you  refuse  to  call 
upon  Him.  You  have  the  heavenly  vision ;  it  is  on 
the  question  of  your  obedience  to  it  that  your  salva- 
tion turns.  You  see  the  feast  which  is  spread  for  you 
in  your  Lord's  house,  but  you  will  never  taste  its 
blessed  viands  so  long  as  you  only  stand  at  the  open 
door  wishing  you  were  a  partaker,  yet  refusing  to  go  in. 
We  had  occasion,  several  months  ago,  to  see  the 
great  interest  taken  by  scientific  men  in  the  transit  of 
the  planet  Venus  across  the  sun's  disk.  The  event 
was  anticipated  for  years.  Much  costly,  delicate,  and 
complicated  apparatus  was  got  ready,  with  a  view  to 


128  SERMONS. 

accurate  observations  and  measurements  when  the 
phenomenon  should  occur.  Expeditions,  in  charge  of 
famous  astronomers,  were  sent  with  this  apparatus  to 
remote  parts  of  the  world.  No  precaution  was  neg- 
lected, in  the  hope  of  gaining,  at  some  one  of  the 
points  visited,  such  data  as  might  be  used  to  solve 
important  problems  respecting  the  earth  and  sun,  and 
their  relations  to  each  other.  Now  Christ  comes  be- 
tween the  human  soul  and  God,  as  the  planet  Venus 
came  between  the  earth  and  the  sun.  He  is  the  lus- 
trous gem  of  our  evening  twilight.  He  our  bright  and 
morning  star.  We  see  Him  every  day,  as  we  may  see 
the  beautiful  planet  often ;  but  only  now  and  then,  in 
rare  and  precious  moments,  does  He  come  between  us 
and  God  so  as  to  constitute  the  heavenly  vision.  Or- 
dinarily our  relations  to  God  are  not  revealed  to  us  in 
any  striking  and  convincing  way.  We  listen  to  the 
truth,  we  read  the  words  of  Christ,  we  meditate  re- 
specting our  duty,  in  a  certain  half  attentive  way, 
much  as  we  cast  a  casual  glance  daily  at  the  span- 
gled firmament.  These  common  views  of  Christ 
come  and  go,  and  leave  but  little  impression  behind 
them.  Only  once  in  a  great  while  is  the  feeling 
of  what  we  owe  to  God  borne  in  upon  our  souls. 
Then  is  the  real  transit-hour.  Then  it  becomes  us  to 
be  ready,  with  all  our  powers  and  faculties,  to  heed 
each  slightest  intimation ;  to  obey  the  impulse  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  before  He  passes  by  us,  and  leaves  us 
stiU  in  our  worldliness  and  sins.  Who  can  tell  what 
the  fate  of  the  mailed  warrior  Saul  would  have  been 
if  he  had  not  obeyed  the  voice  which  spoke  to  him  in 
the  very  moment  of  the  heavenly  vision  ?  It  would 
almost  seem  that  he  had  his  own  wondrous  escape  in 
view  when  he  said,  "  It  is  impossible  for  those  who 


OBEYING    THE   HEAVENLY  VISION.        129 

were  once  enlightened,  and  have  tasted  of  the  heavenly 
gift,  and  were  made  partakers  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and 
have  tasted  the  good  word  of  God,  and  the  powers  of 
the  world  to  come,  if  they  shall  fall  away,  to  renew 
them  again  unto  repentance;  seeing  they  crucify  to 
themselves  the  Son  of  God  afresh,  and  put  Him  to  an 
open  shame."  God  was  revealed  to  Judas  in  Christ 
Jesus ;  but  he,  refusing  to  obey  the  heavenly  vision, 
went  back  into  darkness,  and  became  "the  son  of 
perdition."  He,  too,  might  have  won  the  cro^vn  of 
righteousness  which  fadeth  not  away,  if  he  had  bowed 
to  the  vision  of  God  in  Christ,  saying,  with  the  peni- 
tent near  Damascus,  "  Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  me 
do  ?  "  Jerusalem  was  destroyed  because  she  knew  not 
the  time  of  her  visitation.  "  Oh  that  thou  hadst 
known,  even  thou,  in  this  thy  day !  "  is  the  compas- 
sionate cry  which  her  rejected  King  lifts  over  her. 
The  heavenly  vision  may  come  too  late  to  be  of  any 
avail  if  it  be  slighted.  Esau  comprehended  the  value 
of  his  birthright  when  he  had  lost  it.  Judas  saw 
Christ  after  the  betrayal  as  he  had  not  seen  Him 
before  ;  and  the  consciousness  of  what  he  had  wickedly 
lost  drove  him  to  desperation.  "  Behold  the  bride- 
groom Cometh,"  was  the  voice  heard  at  midnight ;  but 
it  was  too  late  for  the  foolish  virgins.  The  great 
opportunity  had  been  theirs,  and  they  had  slighted  it. 
It  went  from  them,  never  to  return,  while  they  slum- 
bered and  slept.  "  As  thy  servant  was  busy  here  and 
there,  he  was  gone."  You  have  your  chance,  that  is, 
to  obey  the  voice  in  which  God  calls  you ;  but  if  you 
refuse  to  hearken,  that  chance  is  taken  away.  All  our 
common  experience  is  according  to  this  truth.  That 
the  heavenly  vision  leaves  us  worse  off  than  it  found 
us,  if  we  refuse  to  obey  it,  is  a  law  of  life  embodied 
in  those  oft-quoted  words,  — 


130  SERMONS. 

' '  There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men 
Which,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  fortune ; 
Omicted,  all  the  voyage  of  their  life 
Is  bound  in  shallows  and  in  miseries." 

What  a  dreadful  moment  it  was  for  Judas  Iscariot 
when  he  went  unto  the  enemies  of  Christ,  overwhehned 
with  feelings  of  guilt,  exclaiming,  ''  I  have  sinned  in 
that  I  have  betrayed  innocent  blood,"  and  hearing 
from  them  only  the  cold  reply,  "  What  is  that  to  us  ? 
see  thou  to  that."  Oh,  how  inexorable  sin  is !  How 
the  tempter  turns  upon  the  poor  soul  which  has  yielded 
to  his  tem2)tations,  seeming  to  take  a  fiendish  delight 
in  its  exquisite  tortures !  I  do  not  mean  to  intimate 
that  God  calls  but  once,  with  His  special  call  of  mercy, 
to  each  erring  soul ;  nor  that  He  may  be  now  calling 
for  the  last  time  to  any  of  us.  Very  likely  we  have 
heard  that  call  repeatedly.  Possibly  those  who  hear 
it  to-day  may  hear  it  again.  But  how  unwise  to  pre- 
sume !  We  cannot  predict  the  action  of  God's  Spirit, 
as  we  can  the  conjunctions  of  the  heavenly  bodies.  It 
bloweth  where  it  listeth  ;  and  one  of  the  strongest 
reasons  why  you  should  listen  to  it,  while  hearing  the 
sound  thereof,  is  the  fact  that  you  cannot  tell  whence 
it  Cometh,  nor  whither  it  goeth.  Over  against  the 
comforting  truth  that  God  is  merciful  and  long-suffer- 
ing, there  is  another  truth  which  we  do  well  to  con- 
sider. The  Scriptures  clearly  teach  that  there  is  a 
limit  to  the  manifestations  of  His  saving  mercy. 
There  is  a  time,  though  we  know  not  when,  at  which 
the  harvest  is  past,  and  the  summer  ended.  The 
length  of  our  day  of  grace  is  not  revealed  to  us  ;  but 
"  the  night  cometh,"  said  our  Saviour,  "  in  which  no 
man  can  work,"  The  door  stands  open,  and  no  man 
can  shut  it ;  yet  the  hour  cometh  when  it  shall  be  shut 


OBEYING    THE  HEAVENLY  VISION.        131 

and  no  man  can  open  it.  We  are  in  the  way  with  our 
adversary,  and  that  way  may  be  long ;  yet  it  has  an 
end  sooner  or  later,  nor  is  there  hope  for  us  any  more 
when  once  we  have  been  cast  into  prison.  When  we 
consider  the  destinies  of  the  soul,  and  how  its  endless 
future  is  to  be  shaped  by  its  own  action,  either  bring- 
ing it  into  peace  with  God  or  shutting  it  away  from 
His  presence,  this  thought  of  a  limit  to  our  probation 
gathers  tremendous  force ;  we  tremble  at  the  bare 
possibility  that  an  hour  should  come,  though  it  may 
be  very  far  off,  when  God  will  withdraw  from  us,  — 
when  He  will  shut  up  the  window  in  heaven  from 
which  His  face  now  shines  in  love  on  the  unwilling 
soul,  and  speak  those  awful  words  :  '*  Because  I  have 
called,  ye  refused ;  I  have  stretched  out  my  hand  and 
no  man  regarded,  but  ye  have  set  at  nought  all  my 
counsel,  and  would  none  of  my  reproof :  I  also  will 
laugh  at  your  calamity,  I  will  mock  when  your  fear 
Cometh." 

If  there  be  any  here  whose  minds  have  been  im- 
pressed, or  whom  God  is  calling  to  forsake  their  sins 
and  come  after  Christ,  do  they  consider  that  this  may 
be  the  turning-point  in  their  lives,  —  the  crisis  of  their 
whole  spiritual  history,  either  for  good  or  evil  ?  They 
are  like  the  children  of  Israel  at  Kadesh-Barnea,  to 
whom  the  spies  brought  back  a  report  from  the  Land 
of  Promise.  You  remember  their  action,  and  what 
came  of  it.  They  were  on  the  southern  border  of 
Canaan.  Egypt,  Pharaoh,  the  Red  Sea,  the  wilder- 
ness, Sinai,  lay  far  behind  them.  In  a  space  of  time 
supposed  to  be  about  two  years  they  had  traversed 
the  desert,  and  were  now  in  sight  of  their  inheritance. . 
The  twelve  chosen  men,  sent  to  search  out  the  land, 
returned  to  them  while  they  waited  here,  bringing 


132  SERMONS. 

back  the  report  that  Canaan  was  a  goodly  land,  and 
showing  the  cluster  of  grapes  from  Eshcol  as  a  proof 
of  its  fruitfulness.  Only  a  single  prompt  and  cour- 
ageous movement  from  the  whole  host  was  needed  to 
put  them  in  possession  of  the  country  to  which  they 
had  come.  But  they  hesitated,  and  their  courage 
failed  them.  They  turned  back  into  the  wilderness. 
And,  of  all  the  thousands  who  that  day  refused  to 
grasp  the  prize  which  lay  within  their  reach,  not  one 
ever  again  came  within  sight  of  it.  They  perished  to 
a  man,  all  who  had  murmured  against  the  Lord  and 
Moses  during  the  forty  years  of  desert  wanderings. 
Now,  that  we  are  to  apply  to  ourselves,  in  a  spiritual 
sense,  this  chapter  of  Jewish  history,  is  clear  from  the 
use  made  of  it  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews.  Christ 
Jesus,  the  Redeemer  of  the  world,  brought  near  to  us 
by  the  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  is  the  Canaan  to 
whose  borders  we  are  come.  Shall  we  enter  into  our 
rest  while  it  is  called  to-day,  or  shall  we  fall  through 
the  same  example  of  unbelief  ?  How  soon  the  heav- 
enly vision,  now  clear  to  our  minds,  will  grow  dim  and 
fade  away,  if  we  go  back  from  it  into  our  life  of  world- 
liness  and  sin ! 

What  reason  have  we  to  believe  that  God  will  be 
better  to  us  than  He  was  to  Israel  of  old  ?  If  they 
were  left  to  eat  the  fruit  of  their  doings,  why  should 
not  we  be  filled  with  our  own  devices  ?  He  sware  unto 
them  that  they  should  not  enter  into  His  rest ;  and 
what  right  have  we  to  hope  that  He  will  again  bring  us 
near  to  His  salvation,  if  we  count  the  blood  of  the  cove- 
nant an  unholy  thing,  and  do  despite  to  the  Spirit  of 
Grace  ?  "  If  the  word  spoken  by  angels  was  steadfast, 
and  every  transgression  and  disobedience  received  a 
just  recompense  of    reward,  how  shall  we  escape  if 


OBEYING   THE  HEAVENLY  VISION.        133 

we  neglect  so  great  salvation  ?  "  Having  come  near 
to  Christ,  and  been  almost  persuaded  to  believe  on 
Him,  if  you  now  hesitate,  dear  friend,  will  not  the 
pillar  of  cloud  remove,  and  stand  behind  you,  in  token 
of  a  sorer  displeasure  than  overtook  Israel?  Who 
can  tell  what  long  years  of  forgetfulness  of  God  are 
before  you,  if  you  now  refuse  to  take  the  decisive  step 
toward  Him  ?  What  wanderings  into  doubt,  unbe- 
lief, sin,  hatred  of  the  gospel,  neglect  and  contempt 
of  the  means  of  grace,  till  at  last  you  shall  end  a  rest- 
less and  unlovely  life,  \vithout  God  and  without  hope 
in  the  world !  You  may  even  now  be  turning  back 
toward  all  this  sin  and  woe,  if  you  refuse  the  voice 
which  speaks  unto  you  from  heaven ! 

It  may  be,  dear  friend,  that  you  hesitate  to  obey  the 
heavenly  vision  which  God  is  now  vouchsafing  you, 
fearing  lest  you  should  find  yourself  alone,  and  with- 
out human  sympathy,  in  it.  Even  if  you  should  be 
alone,  not  another  soul  in  all  the  world  ready  to  come 
with  you  after  Christ,  your  duty  is  the  same.  Saul 
of  Tarsus  was  thus  alone  when  he  saw  and  heard,  and 
nobly  obeyed.  But  the  strong  probability  is  that  you 
would  not  find  yourself  alone  ;  and  this  is  another 
reason  why  you  should  be  obedient  to  the  vision.  In 
religion,  as  in  a  great  many  other  matters  of  common 
concern,  mankind  move  together  in  masses.  Waves 
of  secular  excitement,  now  on  this  and  now  on  that 
subject,  sweep  over  nations  and  over  the  world.  Ex- 
tended religious  awakenings  are  natural.  They  come 
about  in  conformity  to  this  social  law  to  which  all  men 
are  subject.  Therefore,  when  you  find  your  own  mind 
deeply  moved  or  interested  on  the  question  of  reli- 
gious duty,  you  may  take  it  for  gTanted  that  others 
about  you  are  moved  in  like  manner.     The  heavenly 


13-1  SERMONS. 

vision  is  not  for  you  alone,  but  for  many.  They  are 
hesitating,  as  you  are  tempted  to  hesitate ;  and  your 
obedience  may  be  the  needed  power  which  shall  bring 
them,  together  with  yourself,  over  to  the  Lord's  side. 
Christ  rebuked  the  Jews,  saying  that  they  did  not 
enter  into  His  kingdom  themselves,  and  hindered  those 
who  would  enter.  How  do  you  know  that  that  rebuke 
is  not  applicable  to  you  ?  Very  likely  there  are  other 
souls  standing  just  where  you  stand,  who  would  go  in 
if  they  should  see  you  go,  and  who  hesitate  because 
they  see  you  hesitating.  This  is  the  social  law ;  and 
the  responsibility  which  it  implies  is  something  fear- 
ful in  the  case  of  an  awakened  soul.  Think  of  this, 
parents,  whose  children  wait  to  see  how  you  propose 
to  act  in  this  matter  of  religious  duty.  Think  of  it, 
wife,  husband,  young  man,  young  woman,  neighbor, 
friend,  employer ;  remember,  when  God  calls  you  to 
come  after  Him,  how  many  others  are  watching,  ready 
to  do  as  they  see  you  do  in  this  whole  great  concern. 
Thus  it  is  that  God  has  made  us  one  another's  keej)ers. 
No  man  of  us  liveth  to  himself.  We  live  to  those  about 
us,  who  are  one  with  us  in  the  mystic  bond  of  kindred 
and  sympathy.  If  we  abuse  this  power,  we  know  not 
whose  blood  may  cry  out  against  us ;  if  we  improve 
it,  following  the  voice  which  calls  us,  we  shall  not 
enter  alone  into  glory,  but  bringing  many  sons  with 
us.  When  Joshua  asked  all  the  people  to  choose 
between  God  and  Baal,  he  first  assured  them,  before 
they  had  time  to  choose,  that  as  for  himself  and  his 
house  they  would  serve  the  Lord ;  and  instantly  all 
the  people,  bowing  to  the  same  impulse  which  he  had 
thus  openly  obeyed,  exclaimed,  "  God  forbid  that  we 
should  forsake  the  Lord ;  we  will  serve  the  Lord,  for 
He  is  our  God."     Let  that  great  example  teach  you 


OBEVIXG    THE   HEAVE  XL  Y  VISION.         135 

that  any  impulse  toward  Christ  which  jon  may  feel 
in  your  soul  is  a  talent  entrusted  to  your  keeping. 
Others  stand  ready  to  follow  you,  as  they  see  you  fol- 
lowing Christ.  Hinder  them  not  by  burying  or  hid- 
ing your  Lord's  money,  but  make  the  five  talents  other 
five,  the  two  talents  other  two,  by  so  acting  that  what 
you  do  shall  help  others  into  the  kingdom. 

But  if  this  obligation  be  upon  those  whom  the 
Spirit  is  now  turning  toward  Christ,  how  solemn  the 
responsibility  of  His  professed  and  recognized  follow- 
ers !  Dear  Christian  friends,  we  who  hope  to  sit  to- 
gether with  Clii'ist  at  His  own  table  in  the  kingdom 
of  His  Father  and  our  Father,  are  we  obeying  the 
heavenly  vision?  Our  divine  Master  has  told  us  that 
we  are  the  light  of  the  world,  and  has  commanded  us 
to  let  our  light  so  shine  that  others,  seeing  our  good 
works,  shall  glorify  our  Father  in  heaven.  St.  Paul 
was  obedient,  not  merely  in  the  way  to  Damascus,  but 
ever  after,  in  all  his  arduous  ministry  and  apostleship, 
till  he  had  finished  his  course.  No  one  could  look  on 
him  and  say  that  he  was  careful  and  troubled  about 
the  tilings  of  this  world,  or  that  he  sought  for  any- 
thing, even  in  his  religious  zeal,  save  the  glory  of 
Christ  and  the  salvation  of  men.  Are  these  sublime 
objects  the  paramount  motive  by  which  we  are  in- 
spired ?  Is  this  the  blessed  sentence  which  all  are 
forced  to  pass  upon  us  who  behold  our  daily  lives? 
Let  us  consider,  as  we  look  back  through  the  months, 
how  much  time,  prayer,  and  effort  we  have  given  to 
this  great  work,  which  is  the  special  work  Christ  has 
called  us  to  perform.  Alas  for  us,  if  neglecting  this, 
we  have  been  chiefly  concerned  with  matters  which 
turn  away  the  mind  from  Christ  and  His  salvation, 
and  which  make  His  glorious  name  repulsive,  rather 


136  SERMONS. 

than  beautiful  and  winning,  to  those  about  us  !  We 
are  not  in  a  fit  frame  of  mind  to  consider  any  interest 
of  the  Church,  save  as  our  souls  are  bent  with  all 
their  energies  toward  those  great  and  sacred  objects 
for  which  Christ  came  into  otir  world.  Let  us,  there- 
fore, compel  everything  else  to  take  the  secondary  and 
subordinate  place.  Let  us  force  every  question  to 
wait  for  its  proper  answer,  till  we  are  sure  that  we 
have  the  mind  and  will  of  Christ.  Being  full  of  His 
Spirit,  seeking  supremely,  and  with  one  heart,  the 
gathering  into  His  kingdom  of  the  souls  for  which  He 
died,  we  shall  easily  adopt  those  forms  and  methods 
which  are  best  suited  to  our  holy  purpose ;  and  our 
friends  and  kindred  about  us,  seeing  that  we  are 
devoted  to  the  heavenly  vision  more  than  to  any  or  all 
things  else,  will,  through  the  blessing  of  God  upon 
our  faithfulness,  be  persuaded  to  be  obedient  to  it 
also. 


HOLY  MEN  THE  WORLD'S  GREAT  HOPE. 

Be  ye  therefore  perfect,  even  as  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven  is 
perfect.  —  Matt.  v.  48. 

Christ  has  to  do  with  men  themselves  rather  than 
with  something  which  merely  pertains  to  them.  He 
could  say,  as  every  one  who  has  caught  His  spirit  can 
say,  "  I  seek  not  yours,  but  you."  No  doubt  He  con- 
templated, more  joyously  than  any  of  us  ever  has,  the 
prophetic  vision  of  a  perfect  world.  But  the  prime 
object  which  He  sought,  and  which  He  has  bid  us 
who  succeed  Him  in  His  kingdom  seek,  is  perfect  men 
and  women :  by  the  perfecting  of  them  is  the  perfect 
world  to  come. 

The  text  gives  us,  in  a  hortatory  form,  the  main 
theme  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  in  which  it  occurs. 
If  you  study  the  beatitudes  at  the  opening  of  that  ser- 
mon, you  will  find  that  the  blessings  there  promised 
are  for  the  morally  perfect,  —  the  pure-hearted,  the 
righteous,  the  peacemakers,  the  merciful,  the  lowly  in 
spirit.  That  standard  of  a  perfect  outward  life,  which 
the  old  law  set  up,  Christ  here  takes  and  applies  to 
the  whole  inward  life  of  men.  Outward  forms  of 
prayer,  and  of  fasting,  and  of  almsgiving  are  not 
enough.  The  spirit  out  of  which  these  naturally  come 
is  what  Christ  requires.  It  is  the  adultery  of  the 
heart  which  He  denounces,  and  He  admonishes  us  that 
if  we  hate  our  brother  we  are  murderers.  We  are 
not  to  give  in  the  hope  of  receiving  some  return  :  that 


138  SERMONS. 

is  only  lending',  as  sinners  may  lend  to  sinners.  We 
are  to  do  good  hoping  for  nothing.  We  are  to  love 
our  enemies.  We  are  to  pray  for  them  which  de- 
spi'efuUy  use  us  and  persecute  us.  We  are  to  be  like 
God's  rain  and  sunshine,  which  He  sends  upon  the 
evil  and  the  good,  upon  the  just  and  the  unjust. 
What  Christ  sought  in  those  who  heard  Him  there, 
what  He  still  seeks  in  His  followers  and  in  all  man- 
kind, is  that  we  may  be  perfect,  as  our  Father  in 
heaven  is  perfect.  The  whole  aim  of  the  gospel  is 
better  men  and  better  women  ;  men  and  women  all 
the  time  becoming  more  like  God,  morally  and  spirit- 
ually better  in  each  generation,  till  there  shall  be  a 
new  heaven  and  a  new  earth. 

Let  us  see  now,  dear  friends,  what  Christ  and  His 
gospel,  and  all  His  true  followers,  have  to  say  to  the 
various  classes  of  persons  who  are  dreaming  about 
perfection  of  one  kind  or  another  in  the  world. 

1.  Take  first  the  man  who  is  dreaming  of  a  perfect 
system  of  human  philosophy.  There  are  many  such 
men,  hardly  any  two  of  whom  entirely  agree.  Yet 
each  one  believes  that  a  body  of  thought  which  shall 
include  all  truth  is  attainable.  They  have  been  at 
work  now  several  thousand  years,  and  seem  to  be  quite 
as  much  at  variance  as  ever.  Nay,  it  is  no  uncommon 
thing  for  a  single  great  thinker  to  change  his  theories 
of  man  and  nature,  and  of  their  origin  and  destiny, 
again  and  again  in  the  course  of  a  long  life  of  study 
and  investigation.  Now  the  gospel  comes  to  one  of 
these  men,  and  says  to  him,  "  What  are  you  trjang  to 
do  ?  "  He  replies,  "  I  am  trying  to  frame  a  perfect 
philosophy.  My  object  is,  to  account  for  the  existence 
of  the  world,  or  at  least  for  the  changes  tlirough 
which  it  has  come  to  its  present  state  ;  to  explain  the 


HOLY  MEN   THE    WORLD'S   GREAT  HOPE.     139 

various  forms  of  life  wliicli  we  see  about  us  ;  to  find 
the  law  which  regulates  the  earth  and  everything  per- 
taining to  it  in  their  onward  progress  ;  to  show  what 
mind  and  thought  are,  and  what  conscience  is  ;  to 
account  for  man's  dread  of  death  and  hope  of  immor- 
tality ;  to  tell  what  the  future  of  our  planet  is  to  be, 
and  how  men  may  most  rationally  spend  their  pres- 
ent lives."  "  But,"  says  the  gospel  to  such  an  one, 
"  these  are  profound  and  intricate  problems  of  which 
you  speak.  What  are  the  instruments  with  which 
you  hope  to  solve  them  ?  "  "I  rely  upon  the  powers 
of  my  own  mind,"  says  the  philosopher.  "  Ah,  yes," 
says  the  gospel  of  Christ  to  him,  "  but  have  you  duly 
considered  those  powers  ?  You  will  confess  that  they 
are  limited  and  miperfect,  as  all  true  philosophers  do. 
They  have  often  misled  you.  You  dare  not  trust 
them.  AVhen  you  have  thought  out  any  great  subject, 
you  go  over  your  thinking  again  and  again ;  and  then 
you  call  trusted  friends  to  your  aid,  in  the  hope  that 
all  errors  may  be  eliminated.  Then  you  publish  your 
work ;  and  if  it  be  not  immediately  condemned  and 
thrown  aside,  even  if  it  is  much  admired  at  first, 
human  speculation  outgrows  it  in  a  few  years,  and 
some  one  else's  theory,  transitory  like  yours,  takes  its 
place.  And  what  does  all  this  teach  you  ?  Why,  it 
teaches  you  that  you  must  have  perfect  men  to  do  the 
thinking  before  you  can  have  a  perfect  philosophy. 
Now  just  here  is  my  mission  in  the  world.  I  have 
set  up  a  kingdom,  and  committed  it  to  my  followers, 
the  whole  aim  of  which  is  to  make  better  men  and 
women.  It  is  the  office  of  Christianity  to  improve 
the  instruments  with  which  philosophy  must  do  its 
work.  You  must  be  lifted  up  out  of  yourself  ;  you 
must  be  drawn  into  union  with  God,  partake  of  His 


140  SERMONS. 

nature,  and  become  perfect  as  He  is  perfect,  or  you 
cannot  work  out  a  system  of  thought  which  shall  con- 
tain no  error,  but  only  truth.  All  progress,  in  any 
sphere  of  discovery,  is  dependent  on  better  instru- 
ments. John  Locke  and  Immanuel  Kant,  who  are 
still  the  two  great  leaders  of  human  speculation,  bent 
their  whole  energy  to  this  one  point.  They  sought  to 
give  philosophy  an  instrument  which  should  lead  it 
into  the  truth  only.  But  they  both  failed.  For  they 
did  not  enough  consider  the  need  which  the  mind  it- 
self, the  soul,  the  spirit  of  man,  has  to  be  made  bet- 
ter." Thus  does  the  gospel  speak,  dear  friends ;  and 
it  applies  itself  to  just  the  work  which  other  systems 
so  strangely  neglect.  It  says  :  "  Let  your  dream  of  a 
perfect  philosophy  go,  and  first  seek  to  become  your- 
self perfect.  Your  thinking  must  ever  partake  of  the 
imperfection  which  is  in  you.  Therefore  seek  the 
kingdom  of  God  ;  for  God  must  dwell  in  you,  and  you 
in  Him,  before  you  can  solve  the  mystery  of  this  uni- 
verse which  He  has  made." 

2.  Again,  the  gospel  comes  to  the  statesman,  to 
him  who  would  frame  a  perfect  government  in  the 
earth,  and  uses  similar  words.  How  many  statesmen, 
alas,  have  mocked  at  Christ !  Some,  who  have  stood 
highest  in  the  councils  of  nations,  who  have  cast  down 
old  governments  and  set  up  new  ones,  have  franldy 
owned  that  the  whole  subject  of  religion  was  one 
which  did  not  interest  them.  Nor  did  they  care 
whether  or  not  the  minds  of  the  people,  for  whom 
they  were  making  constitutions  and  laws,  were  inter- 
ested in  Christ  and  His  salvation.  Such  men  have 
often  been  prodigious  workers,  endowed  with  large 
intellect,  and  withal  of  pure  and  upright  intent.  But 
the  perfect  government  has  not  come,  —  the  govern- 


HOLY  MEN    THE    WORLD'S   GREAT  HOPE.    141 

nient  which  stands  sure,  and  which  does  the  work  for 
which  it  was  desio:ned.  Where  is  the  fault?  Cer- 
tainly  not  always  in  the  theory.  That  may  be  well 
enough,  but  it  fails  in  the  hands  of  those  who  are  to 
administer  and  sustain  it.  However  right  or  strong 
in  itself,  it  is  made  weak  by  the  imperfections  and 
the  sinfulness  of  men.  This  is  why  governments  fail ; 
not  because  they  are  empires,  or  monarchies,  or  aris- 
tocracies, or  republics,  but  because  they  must  be  car- 
ried on  by  selfish  and  wicked  men.  Let  all  that  self- 
ishness and  wickedness  be  wholly  done  away,  and  let 
men  be  perfected  in  their  moral  and  spiritual  nature, 
and  the  statesman's  dream  would  come  true.  How 
insane,  then,  the  opposition  of  rulers  and  lawgivers  to 
Christ !  He  comes  to  do  just  that  on  which  the  suc- 
cess of  their  work,  so  far  as  they  are  upright  in  pur- 
pose, depends.  Surely,  if  an  undevout  astronomer  is 
mad,  twice  mad  is  the  statesman  who  scorns  Christ,  or 
who  does  not  toil  and  pray  for  the  triumph  of  His  king- 
dom. Christ  says  in  effect:  No  matter  what  name  you 
caU  your  government  by,  but  take  hold  with  me,  and 
to  the  extent  that  my  work  is  done  shall  your  highest 
hopes  be  fulfilled.  Have  in  yourselves  the  same  mind 
which  you  find  in  me,  —  my  justice,  my  love,  my  ten- 
derness, my  pity,  my  firm  hold  on  God  and  the  eternal 
verities  which  centre  in  Him.  Have  all  this,  and  you 
will  be  saved  from  error  in  building  and  administer- 
ing the  state.  You  will  be  perfect,  as  your  Father  in 
heaven  is,  and  hence  there  will  be  no  flaws  in  the 
work  you  are  doing  for  your  country.  And  the  suc- 
cess of  your  work  does  not  depend  wholly  on  you, 
but  the  people  also  must  be  made  to  love  justice, 
mercy,  and  truth,  or  what  you  are  doing  will  sooner  or 
later  fail.  -»-  Thus  does  Christ  speak  to  all  patriots, 


142  SERMONS. 

dear  friends.  He  shows  them  that  the  salvation  from 
sin,  which  He  brings  to  men,  is  essential  to  the  suc- 
cess of  their  work.  He  concerns  himself  not  at  all 
with  their  theories  and  devices,  their  checks  and  bal- 
ances, and  trjdng  to  make  two  wrongs  work  out  right 
by  putting  them  against  each  other.  With  all  this 
Christ  will  not  meddle,  save  to  show  how  utterly  it 
must  fail,  if  men  are  not  redeemed  and  lifted  up  to 
God,  and  sanctified  and  blessed  by  His  gospel.  And 
whose  work  is  most  essential  to  the  state  ?  Not  the 
statesman's  certainly,  but  that  which  Christ  proposes. 
Christ  deals  directly  with  men.  So  far  as  His  work 
is  done,  the  people  cease  to  be  criminal,  vicious,  igno- 
rant, fickle;  and  they  become  unselfish,  pure,  indus- 
trious, law^-abiding,  thus  taking  away  almost  all  need 
of  the  civil  power.  The  ideal  government  awaits  the 
triumph  of  Christianity  in  the  world.  When  all  men 
truly  believe  on  the  Son  of  God,  and  are  full  of  His 
Spirit,  we  shall  know  what  it  is  for  a  nation,  yes,  for 
many  nations,  to  be  born  in  a  day. 

3.  Again,  Christ  has  a  message  for  all  those  who 
are  busy  with  social  problems,  who  are  trying  to  work 
out  some  theory  of  human  society  which  shall  exclude 
all  evil.  Some  of  these  theories  are  too  grossly  im- 
moral to  be  named.  Some  of  them,  which  do  not  go 
so  far  as  to  subvert  the  family,  yet  deny  the  rights 
of  property,  and  especially  of  ownership  in  the  land. 
The  relations  of  capital  and  labor  to  each  other,  hon- 
est money,  the  right  or  wrong  of  what  are  called 
"  strikes,"  and  the  whole  question  of  wages,  are  each 
receiving  a  great  deal  of  attention.  What  shall  chil- 
dren be  taught  in  the  public  schools  ?  Is  city  life  or 
country  life  most  conducive  to  social  purity?  What 
is  the  influence  of  model  lodging-houses  ?     How  can 


HOLY  MEN  THE    WORLD'S  GREAT  HOPE.     143 

raw  iminig-rants  be  most  wisely  worked  into  our  Amer- 
ican society  ?  Is  it  an  evil,  or  is  it  not,  that  so  many 
live  in  hotels  rather  than  in  private  homes ;  that  there 
is  so  much  foreign  travel,  and  so  much  going  from  city 
to  city,  with  no  special  attachment  to  any  one  place, 
throughout  our  land  ?  Certainly  here  are  questions 
enough.  And  there  are  men  enough  at  work  upon 
them,  who  hold  all  shades  of  view  as  to  what  should 
or  what  should  not  be  done.  But  to  all  these  Christ 
comes,  and  He  speaks  the  same  word  to  them  as  to 
every  other.  He  says  :  —  Stop  your  theorizing  and 
speculating,  and  concern  yourself  more  directly  with 
the  men  and  women  about  you.  Their  moral  and  spir- 
itual elevation  is  the  onl}^  thing  which  can  save  human 
society.  Why  do  you  think  to  make  the  stream  pure, 
as  long  as  the  fountain  is  corrupt  ?  What  barriers 
can  you  erect  which  a  depraved  nature  will  not  break 
through?  First  cast  the  salt  into  the  springs  of 
human  conduct,  and  then  all  the  waters  flowing  there- 
from will  be  healed.  When  the  grace  of  God  is  in  the 
hearts  of  all  men,  and  abounds  therein,  every  social 
evil  and  wrong  will  be  done  away.  Your  vision  of  a 
perfect  state  of  society  is  a  dream  ;  and  you  wake  up 
to  find  that  you  have  only  dreamed,  as  often  as  there  is 
a  new  outbreak  of  wicked  passions  in  the  community 
about  you.  But  just  so  far  as  the  people  about  you 
are  delivered  from  sin,  made  new  creatures,  their  souls 
redeemed  and  sanctified,  holy  in  their  spirit  and  life, 
perfect  as  their  heavenly  Father  is  perfect,  you  need 
have  no  fear  for  human  society.  It  -^dll  take  care  of 
itself.  Whatever  its  external  arrangements,  justice 
and  truth  will  abound  in  it,  nor  shall  there  be  any- 
thing to  hurt  or  destroy  in  all  the  holy  mountain. 
4.  As  to  these,  so  to  those  who  are  troubled  about 


144  SERMONS. 

tlie  organization  of  the  church,  Christ  comes  to  turn 
them  away  from  that  to  His  own  proper  work.  Some 
would  organize  the  church  with  a  view  to  making 
preaching  prominent ;  others  would  make  a  liturgy 
overshadow  the  preaching.  Some  would  see  the 
church  wholly  controlled  by  the  clergy,  others  wholly 
by  the  membership  as  such.  Some  would  see  woman 
take  the  same  share  as  man  in  ecclesiastical  matters ; 
others  would  confine  her  to  a  special  sphere.  Some 
would  multiply  meetings ;  others  say  that  already 
there  are  too  many.  Some  would  organize  the  church 
so  that  it  shall  repress  feeling,  emotion,  ^and  enthu- 
siasm ;  others  would  have  it  stimulate  these.  Some 
greatly  exalt  the  sacraments,  or  would  have  them 
administered  only  in  a  particular  way ;  others  would 
subordinate  them  to  the  teaching  of  doctrine  and  prac- 
tical duties.  But  Christ  comes  and  says :  You  can 
never  get  a  perfect  church  by  such  means  as  these. 
Your  church  will  grow  better  only  as  you  yourselves 
are  better,  and  as  you  concern  yourself  for  the  growth 
of  your  brethren  in  holiness.  Nor  will  you  ever  con- 
vert the  world  by  your  machinery,  but  by  your  direct 
efforts  in  men's  behalf.  —  How  much  energy  and  time 
and  money  are  wasted,  dear  friends,  on  these  external 
arrangements  of  the  church !  Theory  after  theory 
of  its  proper  organization  is  thought  out,  shown  by 
faultless  logic  to  be  the  best,  tried  at  great  cost,  and 
then,  after  a  little,  is  thrown  aside  for  something  else. 
"  Let  all  this  alone,"  is  the  message  of  the  gospel  to 
us.  "There  is  but  one  thing  which  will  unite  the 
church,  and  that  is  the  devotion  of  all  its  members 
to  the  saving  of  a  lost  world."  Who  ever  heard  of 
divisions  among  Christians,  or  of  any  trouble  as  to 
how  the  church  shall  be  constituted,  while  their  eye 


HOLY  MEN  THE  WORLD'S   GREAT   HOPE.    145 

was  single  to  this  great  work  ?  Men  make  the  denom- 
inations, but  God  makes  the  church.  And  we  shall 
not  co-work  with  Him  in  His  blessed  office  till  we 
think  more  of  men  and  less  of  systems ;  till  we  would 
rather  save  a  soul  from  death  than  advance  some  pet 
theory  of  ours.  Our  love  for  human  souls  must  be 
perfect,  like  our  heavenly  Father's.  As  His  rain  and 
sunshine  come  down  to  bless  all  alike,  so  our  lives 
must  bring  spiritual  life  to  the  dead  in  sin.  When 
we  are  thus  perfect  in  our  love  for  lost  men,  and  they 
are  made  better  by  our  influence  upon  them,  the 
church  will  be  increased  and  edified.  It  will  take 
that  oro'anization  which  is  natural  to  it  in  its  circum- 
stances ;  yet  its  power  in  the  world  will  not  be  due  to 
its  organization,  but  to  the  fact  that  its  members,  for- 
getting themselves  and  all  special  forms,  and  heeding 
only  what  Christ  the  Lord  has  said,  are  everywhere 
pleading  with  men  to  believe  on  Him.  In  whatever 
sphere,  therefore,  our  lot  may  be  cast,  —  in  that  of  the 
thinker,  in  the  state,  in  society,  in  the  care  of  the 
church,  —  let  us  bear  in  mind  that  perfection  can 
come  only  as  mankind  are  made  perfect  in  Christ. 

Perhaps  you  say  that  this  puts  all  our  ideals  very 
far  off.  Not  so  far  off  as  we  may  think,  dear  friends, 
if  we  will  but  turn  from  our  devices,  and  do  the  work 
Christ  gives  us  with  our  might.  If,  as  some  hold,  the 
world  is  not  growing  spiritually  better,  but  worse,  we 
ought  not  to  wonder.  Christ's  followers,  even  those 
who  toil  and  pray  for  the  world's  deliverance  from  sin, 
are  doing  almost  nothing  compared  with  what  they 
might  do  toward  that  blessed  result.  They  are  in- 
venting theories,  and  laying  out  their  strength  on  gen- 
eral measures,  while  they  strive  not  to  be  perfect  them- 
selves before  God,  and  to  bring  as  many  souls  as  they 


146  SERMONS. 

can  lay  hold  of  to  Christ.  If  Christ  must  come  again, 
before  His  work  is  done  in  the  world,  that  second  com- 
ing must  be  to  call  back  His  people  from  the  many 
paths  into  which  they  have  wandered,  and  to  fill  them 
with  His  own  great  love  for  men  yet  in  their  sins. 
But  the  Holy  Spirit  was  sent  to  do  that  for  us,  dear 
friends ;  and  if  all  Christians  were  but  filled  with 
His  divine  fire,  there  would  soon  be  a  redeemed  world 
^waiting  to  receive  Christ  when  He  comes  back  to  it. 

What  if  Christ  Himself  had  been  imperfect,  or  at 
all  sinful,  dear  friends  ?  Could  He  have  done  His 
saving  work  all  the  same  ?  Could  He  have  been  the 
perfect  teacher  of  religious  truth  that  He  was  ?  Cer- 
tainly not.  He  was  the  truth,  and  therefore  He  could 
speak  the  truth.  He  could  give  to  the  world  only 
what  was  in  Himself.  He  could  not  have  given  us  a 
perfect  religion  if  He  had  not  been  Himself  perfect. 
And  He  is  our  example,  our  pattern.  He  encourages 
us  to  hope  that  we  may  reach  the  measure  and  stature 
of  His  fullness.  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord,  dwelling  in 
us,  can  change  us  into  His  image.  And  only  as  we 
are  thus  changed  from  glory  to  glory  can  we  be  safe 
guides  to  others,  and  surely  build  up  His  kingdom  in 
the  world. 

What  does  the  story  of  Adam,  and  of  the  garden 
in  which  God  put  him,  teach  us,  if  not  that  where 
men  are  perfect  all  things  about  them  will  be  perfect  ? 
Men  make  their  world.  So  long  as  they  are  good, 
the  world  about  them  is  good ;  and  when  they  become 
evil,  the  world  in  which  they  are  grows  evil.  It  was 
so  at  the  beginning.  The  Lord  God  caused  the 
ground  to  bear  briers  and  thorns  after  man  had 
sinned,  tliough  the  same  ground  had  borne  only  what 
was  pleasant  to  the  eye  and  the  taste  while  man  was 


HOLY  MEN    THE  WORLD'S   GREAT  HOPE.    147 

innocent.  Yes,  what  man  himself  was  in  his  own  per- 
son, morally  and  spiritually  before  God,  such  all  things 
about  him  tended  to  become. 

And  is  not  the  same  great  lesson  taught  us  in  the 
descriptions  of  heaven  wliich  we  have  ?  Nothing  that 
defileth  is  there.  The  lively  stones,  of  which  it  is 
builded,  are  the  redeemed  saints  washed  and  made 
white.  Such  as  they  are  is  the  place  in  which  they 
eternally  dwell.  They,  by  their  pure  presence,  make 
the  city.  Though  God  is  the  light,  and  the  Lamb  the 
glory,  yet  their  righteousness  is  the  clean  linen,  the 
harvest  of  holiness  in  them  is  the  twelve  manner  of 
fruits,  their  j^erfection  of  soul  makes  the  city  four 
square,  and  their  communion  is  the  everlasting  song. 

Oh,  dear  friends,  how  unspeakably  sad  that  so  few 
have  learned  the  great  lesson  of  our  text !  Let  us 
begin  to  learn  it  to-day.  May  the  past  suffice  for  us 
to  have  laid  ourselves  out  on  other  things,  and  hence- 
forth may  it  be  our  whole  study  how  we,  and  all  whom 
we  can  reach,  may  be  made  more  and  more  like  Christ ! 
The  world  would  not  be  evil  if  man  were  not  e\nl,  and 
it  will  be  good  only  so  fast  as  he  becomes  good.  "  Be 
ye  perfect "  is  the  one  behest  which  we  should  shout 
in  men's  ears  unto  the  ends  of  the  earth.  For  only 
as  those  words  are  obeyed  can  there  be  a  new  heaven 
and  a  new  earth.  As  you,  and  I,  and  one  and  another 
about  us,  cease  from  all  other  devices,  and  begin  to 
repeat  in  our  lives  the  loving  ministry  of  our  divine 
Master,  errors  and  mistakes  will  begin  to  vanish  out 
of  the  church,  out  of  society,  out  of  the  state,  out  of 
systems  of  human  thought,  and  the  morning  of  the 
day  in  which  the  earth  shall  be  full  of  the  knowledge 
and  glory  of  God  will  begin  to  dawn. 


CONSCIENCE. 

These,  having-  not  the  law,  are  a  law  unto  themselves.  —  Rom.  ii.  14. 

It  is  well  for  the  shipmaster,  feeling  his  way  along 
rocky  coasts  and  amongst  shoals  and  currents,  if  he 
can  always  see  the  heavenly  bodies,  and  have  beacons 
and  lighthouses  to  sail  by.  But  when  sun  and  stars 
are  shut  in,  and  he  is  far  out  from  the  land,  enveloped 
in  mists,  he  thinks  of  his  compass  and  chart,  and  runs 
to  them  for  direction. 

And  so  it  is  well  for  us,  while  navigating  the  shoaly 
sea  of  moral  and  religious  opinion,  if  we  can  always 
have  the  rigrht  course  made  unmistakable  to  us.  But 
should  all  external  helps  disappear,  and  we  be  left, 
amid  darkness  and  perplexities,  to  find  out  our  course 
as  best  we  may,  still  we  are  not  in  a  desperate  case. 
We,  like  the  other  mariner,  have  a  counselor  on  board 
to  which  we  may  resort ;  and  when  the  great  light  out 
of  the  heavens  has  vanished,  the  lamp  from  the  bin- 
nacle still  sends  a  ray  forward  into  the  gloom. 

This  lamp,  which  you  carry  with  you,  and  which  is 
your  last  resource  in  perplexed  questions  of  right  and 
wrong,  has  been  named  Conscience  in  our  every-day 
speech.  The  apostle  refers  to  this  in  the  words  of  the 
text.  The  unchristianized  world,  whose  corruptions 
he  has  just  been  portraying,  and  which  make  so  dark 
a  picture,  cannot  plead  total  ignorance  as  an  excuse 
for  their  sins.  They  have  not  those  external  helps 
such  as  nations  blessed  with  the  Scriptures  possess, 


CONSCIENCE.  149 

but  they  have  conscience,  —  an  inward  monitor,  — 
whose  suofo'estions  it  is  safe  for  them  to  follow.  That 
law  which  David  rejoiced  in  —  which  was  pure,  en- 
lightening his  eyes,  and  by  which  he  was  warned 
against  sin  —  had  never  been  revealed  to  them ;  and 
yet,  by  virtue  of  certain  inherent  powers,  they  had  a 
law,  —  yea,  were  a  law  unto  themselves. 

Now,  if  this  could  be  said  of  an  untaught  pagan, 
much  more  can  it  be  said  of  each  one  of  us.  You, 
my  hearer,  in  all  questions  of  duty  toward  God  or 
toward  men,  are  a  law  unto  yourself.  There  is  a 
touchstone  in  your  soul  to  which  you  may  bring  every 
action  —  or  course  of  action  —  and  be  certified  of  its 
moral  character.  You  have  an  inherent  ability  to  find 
out,  in  any  given  case,  what  is  right  for  you  and  what 
is  wrong  for  you.  When  you  do  that  which  God  ap- 
proves, and  when  you  do  that  which  He  condemns, 
you  may  know  how  He  views  your  conduct,  not  only 
afterwards,  but  beforehand  and  in  the  mean  time. 

It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  show  here  that  right 
and  wrong  are  qualities  actually  residing  in  human 
conduct.  You  are  aware  that  some  men  have  denied 
the  existence  of  such  a  thing  as  moral  character  in 
actions.  They  say  that  one  act  appears  good  and  an- 
other bad  to  us  from  mere  custom  or  education,  and 
not  because  the  two  acts  are  morally  different.  When 
we  make  such  distinctions  as  righteous  and  wicked, 
holy  and  sinful,  virtuous  and  vicious,  well-deser\dng 
and  ill-deserving,  we  are  only  expressing  certain 
groundless  fancies,  —  there  are  no  realities  corre- 
sponding to  such  ideas.  Thus  they  endeavor  to  take 
from  us  the  feeling  of  responsibility,  to  make  it  ap- 
pear that  our  best  deeds  are  only  a  selfish  prudence, 
that  the  idea  of  guilt  or  repentance  for  any  act  we 


1^0  SERMONS. 

commit  is  a  mere  spectre,  and  that  our  highest  wisdom 
consists,  not  in  troubling  ourselves  about  right  and 
wrong,  but  in  doing  that  which  shall  afford  us  the 
most  pleasure.  I  need  not  say  that  these  men  are 
philosophers.  No  other  class  of  persons  have  ever 
reasoned  themselves  so  far  away  from  what  is  evi- 
dently true,  —  being  self-evident,  —  and  from  that 
which  every  sound  mind  instinctively  believes.  We 
are  not  cheating  ourselves  with  emj)ty  imaginations 
when  we  say  that  some  deeds  are  morally  good  and 
others  morally  evil,  —  when  our  thoughts  accuse  or  else 
excuse  one  another.  That  law  which  the  finger  of 
God  has  written  on  our  hearts,  and  which  abides  with 
us  while  we  have  not  the  law  written  on  tables  of 
stone,  —  this  law  is  not  concerned  with  the  prejudices 
of  custom  and  the  creations  of  a  feverish  brain,  but 
the  actions  which  it  approves  or  condemns  have  a  real 
desert  abiding  in  them,  and  he  who  performs  them  is 
not  an  object  of  indifference,  but  of  righteous  judg- 
ment, in  the  sight  of  God. 

I  i^ropose  now  to  consider  some  of  the  offices  of 
conscience,  —  some  of  the  workings  of  this  inward 
guide  which  we  have  in  questions  of  moral  obligation. 
And  in  doing  this  I  shall  not  aim  to  communicate  any 
new  truths,  but  shall  hope  rather  to  reproduce  and 
brighten  certain  facts  of  your  personal  experience. 

(1)  The  first  office  of  Conscience,  which  we  will 
consider,  may  be  called  the  perceptive  office. 

When  you  have  been  reading  works  of  biography 
and  history,  running  over  some  fictitious  narrative,  or 
witnessing  a  scenic  performance,  various  personages 
have  been  introduced  to  your  notice.  You  have  been 
brought  face  to  face  with  the  unjust  judge,  the  Chris- 
tian  patriot,  the  slippery  politician,  the  benevolent 


CONSCIENCE.  151 

ruler,  tlie  treacherous  friend,  the  unnatural  child,  the 
devoted  mother,  the  kind  neighbor.  Crowded  together 
upon  the  same  canvas,  and  in  the  utmost  disorder, 
you  have  seen  strutting  vanity,  sweet  forgiveness, 
meek-visaged  piety,  maidy  self-reliance,  the  distorted 
face  of  passion,  sordid  appetite,  stealthy  deceit,  malice, 
benignity,  avarice,  revenge.  As  you  contemplated 
these  diverse  qualities  and  characters,  you  perceived 
two  general  types,  to  one  or  the  other  of  which  they 
could  severally  be  referred.  While  you  were  rejoicing 
in  the  success  of  one,  admiring  the  splendid  abilities 
of  another,  pitying  the  imbecility  of  another,  and  de- 
spising the  meanness  of  another,  you  also  perceived  a 
single  line  dividing  them  all  into  two  parties.  You 
perceived,  besides  every  other  diversity,  a  moral  differ- 
ence :  as  many  of  them  as  were  not  good  were  bad,  — 
as  many  of  them  as  were  not  virtuous  were  vicious  ;  as 
many  as  were  not  holy  were  sinful.  There  was  no 
third  party,  nor  any  neutral  party,  according  to  this 
perception.  Many  of  these  characters,  which  you  have 
met  with  in  your  reading  and  intercourse  with  men, 
return  to  your  thoughts  now  and  then ;  and  when  you 
have  forgotten  every  other  of  their  peculiarities,  this 
impression  of  good  or  bad  still  remains.  Shylock, 
Portia,  —  Gabriel,  Lucifer,  —  Napoleon,  Washing- 
ton, —  Paul,  Judas,  —  Elijah,  Ahab,  —  Herod,  Sim- 
eon :  though  everything  else  associated  with  these 
names  may  have  passed  out  of  memory,  we  yet  have 
in  each  case  a  general  impression  of  good  or  ill  desert. 
And  as  in  the  case  of  an  entire  character  or  life, 
so  of  any  single  act.  Let  a  man  do  what  he  will  in 
your  presence,  there  is  an  instant  voice  within  you 
wdiich  says,  "  That  act  was  right,"  or  else,  "  That 
act  was  wrong."     The  judgment  pronounced  may  be 


152  SERMONS. 

erroneous,  and  you  may  reverse  it  afterwards ;  it  may 
be  spoken  in  so  low  a  tone,  and  you  may  be  so  busy 
with  other  things,  as  hardly  to  have  any  consciousness 
of  it :  but  it  is  there  in  every  instance,  as  you  will 
soon  be  convinced  by  a  little  watching  of  your  mind's 
processes. 

So,  also,  when  the  question  has  reference  to  your  own 
line  of  conduct  and  is  immediate  and  practical.  In 
such  a  case  you  perceive  which  is  the  praiseworthy 
and  which  the  blameworthy  course  before  you  on  the 
very  instant,  and  with  hardly  the  possibility  of  mis- 
take. Let  it  be  a  mercantile  transaction.  ''  Shall  I 
venture  upon  this  matter  ?  "  is  the  question  for  you  to 
decide.  Many  particulars  enter  into  the  inquiry : 
"  Will  it  be  lucrative  ?  have  I  enough  knowledge  of 
business  to  carry  it  through  ?  what  would  be  its  effect 
on  my  social  standing  ?  would  it  endanger  my  health  ? 
can  I  attend  to  it  without  being  separated  fi-om  my 
family  and  friends  ?  "  These  are  items  over  which 
you  may  be  obliged  to  brood  long  and  earnestly ;  re- 
specting some  of  them  you  may  not  be  able  to  come  to 
any  conclusion;  you  must  run  some  risk,  acting  on 
probabihties,  and  leaving  it  for  the  result  to  show 
whether  you  decided  prudently  or  not.  But  there  is 
another  question  involved,  about  which  you  have  no 
such  hesitation.  "  Does  this,  which  I  am  purposing 
to  do,  arise  out  of  a  good  or  bad  motive  ?  Does  it,  in 
its  spirit  and  purpose,  conform  to  the  law  of  moral 
rectitude,  or  does  it  violate  that  law  ?  "  You  have 
no  need  to  deliberate  over  this.  There  is  a  voice 
within  you  which  speaks  instantly  and  with  all  author- 
ity :  it  asks  no  more  light,  no  more  evidence.  It  dis- 
cerns the  moral  character  of  your  intention  intuitively, 
and  its  sentence  of  approval  or  condemnation  is  final. 


CONSCIENCE.  15d 

You  know,  beyond  the  shadow  of  doubt,  whether  your 
undertaking  is  right  or  wrong,  whether  the  motive 
from  which  it  springs  is  just  or  unjust.  You  have 
heard  men  pretend  to  be  in  doubt  as  to  the  moral  pro- 
priety of  certain  business  practices  ;  but  how  can  such 
doubting  be  indeed  honest  ?  Is  it  possible  that  one 
should  not  know  the  character  of  his  own  motives  ? 
Though  we  may  not  be  able  to  judge  for  another  man, 
yet  we  can,  I  believe,  each  man  for  himself.  Where 
one  begins  to  talk  of  being  in  the  dark  as  to  the  moral 
character  of  his  practices,  it  is  a  pretty  sure  sign  that 
he  knows  them  to  be  wrong,  and  that  for  some  selfish 
reason  he  wishes  to  be  blinded  to  their  ill-desert.  It 
is  a  willful  ignorance,  a  confusion  of  ideas  which  he 
has  labored  hard  to  produce  ;  he  has  sought  to  throw 
a  web  of  sophistries  over  his  soul's  eye,  and  to  mis- 
understand the  stiU  small  voice.  Many  a  one  has 
amassed  wealth  by  what  we  charitably  caU  doubtful 
methods  ;  and  at  length,  after  having  gained  his  ob- 
jects, he  pretends  that  this  question  of  right  and 
wrong  aU  at  once  occurs  to  him.  And  then,  consult- 
ing some  distinguished  moralist  or  divine,  and  getting 
great  credit  for  conscientiousness,  he  concludes  to 
adopt  a  different  course  ;  and  yet  the  truth  is,  that  he 
knew  first,  just  as  really  as  last,  the  character  of  his 
conduct,  —  only  he  then  had  a  selfish  object  to  gain. 
Do  not  carry  these  difficulties  to  your  friends.  They 
cannot  settle  them  for  you.  You  are  a  law  unto  your- 
self respecting  them.  After  all  your  going  about, 
and  taking  advice,  and  asking  how  others  do,  you 
learn  only  that  which  your  own  mind  had  suggested 
to  you  long  before. 

Now  this  intuitive  perception  of  the  right  and  the 
wrong,  when  we  are  about  to  take  any  step,  is  what 


154  SERMONS. 

we  call  an  act  of  conscience.  In  every  question  o£ 
morals  we  have  here  a  judge  which  pronounces  sen- 
tence on  the  instant,  which  decides  infallibly  when  al- 
lowed to  act  freely,  and  to  which  we  are  many  times 
driven  back  from  every  other  helper.  As  it  is  our 
first  and  best  resort,  so  it  is  our  last  resort.  We  re- 
turn to  it,  as  persons  cured  of  blindness  shut  their  eyes 
and  rely  on  the  old  sense  of  touch  to  guide  them 
through  a  forest ;  we  are  like  the  benighted  traveler, 
who,  despairing  of  the  way  homeward,  drops  the  rein 
upon  his  horse's  neck ;  like  the  man  of  quick  nerves, 
whom  the  face  of  the  sky  and  the  barometer  often 
mislead,  but  whose  ebb  or  flow  of  animal  spirits  never 
fails  to  indicate  when  calms  and  tempests  are  coming. 

(2)  A  second  office  of  Conscience,  which  comes 
next  in  order,  may  be  called  the  impulsive. 

We  have  just  considered  one  mental  phenomenon  : 
we  have  seen  how  the  mind  acts  in  view  of  two  or 
more  possible  lines  of  conduct ;  it  decides  intuitively 
which  one  of  them  all  is  right,  —  which  courses  you 
ought  to  avoid,  and  which  course  you  may  justly  pur- 
sue. But  when  this  sentence  has  been  given,  there  is 
immediately  another  forth-putting,  —  another  mani- 
festation of  mental  energy.  We  are  conscious  of  an 
impulse  arising  within  us,  —  an  impulse  toward  that 
which  is  right,  and  away  from  that  which  has  been 
pronounced  wrong.  The  voice  within  us  does  not  stop 
with  saying,  "  This  is  the  way,"  but  it  forthwith  adds, 
"  Walk  ye  in  it."  This  monitor  does  everything  it  can 
do  —  and  not  impair  our  freedom  —  to  help  us  into 
the  paths  of  righteousness.  When  it  has  counseled 
us,  it  gently  urges  us  to  follow  that  counsel.  There 
are  other  motives,  inclining  us  in  other  directions,  and 
these  often  win  the  day  against  conscience ;  but  we 


CONSCIENCE.  155 

never  act  contrary  to  her  suggestions  without  a  strug- 
gle. Go  back  into  your  experience  a  little,  if  you 
doubt  the  truth  of  this.  When  you  saw  those  several 
courses  of  action  before  you,  and  entered  on  one  which 
you  knew  to  be  wrong,  did  you  feel  no  impulse  toward 
the  course  which  you  knew  was  right  ?  When  you 
deceived  that  man,  or  avoided  that  obligation,  or  mag- 
nified that  injurious  report  about  your  neighbor,  or 
indulged  that  appetite,  how  was  it  with  you  ?  Did  you 
not  struggle  against  something  which  was  prompting 
you  to  do  otherwise  ?  Did  not  thoughts  of  your  early 
home,  of  your  father,  of  your  mother,  of  brothers  and 
sisters,  and  of  your  old  pastor  and  Sabbath-school 
teacher,  rally  to  the  support  of  this  inward  motive? 
Were  you  not  obliged  to  smother  all  such  memories, 
and  to  forget  the  daylight  and  the  faces  of  your 
friends,  before  you  could  put  down  the  impulse  to 
good,  and  in  spite  of  it  take  the  evil  path  ? 

When  a  man  first  enters  upon  the  road  of  iniquity, 
there  is  a  fence  for  him  to  get  over.  Satan  may  have 
built  a  stile  there  to  facilitate  his  ruin,  and  he  may 
behold  tempting  sights,  and  fair  hands  may  be  reached 
forth  to  help  him ;  but  after  all  it  is  a  by-path  which 
he  enters.  He  has  to  make  some  effort  to  reach  it, 
though  he  may  find  it  easy  enough  afterwards.  Con- 
science not  only  shows  us  the  wrong  way,  but  she  bai*- 
ricades  it,  and  forewarns  us  to  keep  out  of  it. 

Nor  is  this  all ;  for  we  at  the  same  time  see  the 
right  way,  and  that  conscience  leaves  open,  and  giv^es 
us  an  impulse  toward  it.  Some  persons  try  to  satisfy 
themselves  with  a  negative  goodness  ;  that  is,  they  sit 
still  where  these  two  roads  meet,  entering  neither. 
But  you  will  perceive  at  once  that  this  does  not  meet 
the  demands  of  conscience.     She  requires  something 


156  SERMONS. 

positive  from  us.  To  perceive  our  duty  is  one  thing, 
and  not  to  run  away  from  it  is  another  ;  and  when  we 
have  done  both  these,  we  may  not  have  yielded  to  the 
impulse  of  conscience  to  perform  that  duty.  Until 
you  are  actually  in  the  way  of  the  right,  —  putting 
forth  positive  acts  of  justice,  truth  and  love,  —  there 
is  no  more  righteousness  in  you  than  there  is  in  blocks 
and  stones  and  the  eternal  hills.  They  never  do  any 
wrong ;  no  sin  of  commission  is  ever  laid  to  their 
charge.  They  are  as  guiltless  as  the  angels  of  God ; 
and  you  will  be  as  destitute  of  merit  as  they,  till  you 
begin  indeed  to  run  in  the  way  of  holiness. 

Oh  what  a  friend  you  have  in  that  bosom  monitor ! 
You  may  be  perplexed  and  bewildered  while  passion 
rages,  —  while  you  consult  the  rules  of  expediency,  — 
while  you  make  self-interest  your  adviser.  But  when 
you  drive  away  these,  and  sit  down  tranquilly  to  ask 
only  what  is  right  in  the  case,  you  never  fail ;  and 
then  a  wall  rises  up  to  shut  out  sin,  and  the  path  you 
ought  to  enter  is  open  and  smooth,  and  you  feel,  as  it 
were,  a  hand  laid  on  you,  gently  impelling  you  to  take 
the  first  happy  step.  As  often  as  you  have  stood  on 
the  narrow  istlnnus  where  you  have  seen  the  two 
oceans  of  right  and  wrong  spread  out,  —  one  on  either 
hand,  —  you  have  seen  a  boat  coming  up  from  the 
right,  into  which  you  have  involuntarily  stej^ped ;  and 
a  soft  impulse  has  then  started  you  off  from  the  shore. 
If,  notwithstanding  this,  you  have  chosen  evil  at  last, 
it  is  because  you  have  rowed  back  to  the  land,  and 
crossed  over  to  the  other  sea,  contrary  to  the  sweet 
persuasions  of  the  friend  in  your  soul.  Conscience 
does  all  that  it  can  do  to  save  you  from  sin.  Like 
some  mother  hunting  for  a  lost  child,  it  not  only  calls 
to  you  from  its  far-off  home,  but  comes  out  after  you 


CONSCIENCE.  157 

into  the  wilderness,  marking  the  trees  all  along  for 
your  guidance ;  and  it  arouses  you  from  your  stupor, 
and  lifts  you  up,  and  advances  your  feet  into  the  home- 
ward way.  It  is  not  content  with  stretching  a  thread 
through  the  windings  of  the  labyrinth  in  which  you 
wander,  but  it  puts  that  thread  into  your  hand  and 
winds  it  about  you,  and  gently  draws  you  on  ;  so  that 
you  are  guilty  of  positive  resistance  if  you  do  not  fmd 
your  way  out  into  the  air  and  sunlight. 

(3)  Conscience  has  one  other  office,  namely,  the 
retributive. 

This  third  act  is  not  linked  immediately  to  the  sec- 
ond, as  we  saw  that  the  second  was  to  the  first.  As 
soon  as  we  have  the  perception  of  the  right,  we  feel 
the  imj^ulse  toward  it ;  but  between  this  impulse  and 
the  retributive  work,  an  act  of  freewill  comes  in. 
Thus  far,  the  process  has  been  involuntary ;  it  has 
gone  on  of  itself  without  our  help,  and  in  spite  of  hin- 
drances. But  here  it  pauses  to  see  how  we  will 
choose  ;  after  we  have  decided  which  course  to  take, 
and  are  actually  pursuing  our  chosen  way,  then  the 
final  work  of  conscience  begins. 

This  retribution  may  be  in  the  form  either  of  a 
reward  or  of  a  i3unishment.  Recall  some  moment 
in  your  history  —  if  you  can  —  when  you  implicitly 
obeyed  conscience.  Perhaps  you  had  just  come  from 
a  Christian  home  to  the  city,  —  a  young  man  in  quest 
of  your  fortune.  While  unpacking  your  trunk  you 
came  across  the  little  Bible,  —  and  the  note  askino- 
you,  for  the  sake  of  a  mother's  love,  to  read  the  vol- 
ume each  day  prayerfully.  You  did  not  feel  the  mag- 
nitude of  the  question  at  first,  perhaps  ;  and  carelessly 
laid  the  holy  book  aside,  or  read  it  now  and  then  in 
an    indiiferent   manner.     But  gradually  temptations 


158  SERMONS. 

rose  around  you,  and  you  saw  that  a  struggle  must 
come.  ''  Shall  I  waste  my  Sabbaths,  go  with  vicious 
companions,  and  form  evil  habits,  or  shall  I  be  true 
to  my  early  instructions  ?  "  This  was  the  alternative  ; 
and,  turning  the  deaf  ear  to  pleasure,  you  listened  to 
the  voice  of  duty.  You  took  a  seat  in  the  house  of 
God,  you  joined  the  Bible-class,  you  sought  the  friend- 
ship of  the  good.  Now  what  was  the  result  of  that 
choice  ?  Why,  a  feeling  of  self-respect  rose  at  once 
within  you.  You  were  at  peace  with  yourself,  —  calai 
and  hapi^y  in  soul.  You  did  not  fear  to  look  any 
man  in  the  face ;  frowns  could  not  abash  you,  disap- 
pointments could  not  drive  j^ou  to  desperation.  If 
you  have  steadily  pursued  this  course,  —  shunning  the 
evil  and  choosing  the  good,  —  your  reward  has  been 
constant  and  increasing.  No  crimes,  no  dissipations, 
no  dishonesties  lift  up  their  black  fronts  as  you  gaze 
into  the  past :  everything  is  bright,  fair,  and  of  good 
report;  and  therefore  the  retributive  work  of  con- 
science is  an  unspeakable  delight  to  you.  You  have 
a  blessedness  which  no  external  success  could  give, 
and  which  no  worldly  trouble  can  ever  disturb.  All 
things  in  nature  and  providence  smile  upon  you. 
They  say,  "  He  is  innocent ;  let  him  pass  unscathed ; 
protect  him  from  harm  ;  God  loves  him,  and  bids  us 
strew  flowers  in  his  path." 

But  suppose  that  you  chose  the  other  side  of  the 
alternative,  —  that  you  resisted  the  impulse  of  con- 
science, and  chose  the  evil  way.  Then  the  retribution 
was  not  pleasant,  but  terrible  to  you.  The  very  first 
step  you  took,  a  vij^er  stung  you ;  your  choice  re- 
bounded with  a  painful  blow ;  no  sooner  had  you 
opened  the  gate  than  the  flames  of  punishment  burst 
forth  upon  you.     If  you  forgot  the  counsels  of  Chris- 


CONSCIENCE.  159 

tian  parents ;  if  you  broke  from  tlie  restraints  of  your 
early  home ;  if  you  turned  away  your  foot  from  the 
sanctuary  ;  if  you  have  indulged  appetite  ;  if  you  have 
followed  passion,  and  yielded  to  temptations ;  if  you 
have  wi'onged  your  fellow-man,  or  been  a  defamer  or 
a  busybody,  —  you  have  suffered  more  or  less  all  the 
while.  It  has  been  a  perpetual  dropping,  a  lingering- 
torture,  a  wave  of  discomfort  which  may  have  ebbed 
at  times,  but  which  has  never  rested.  Your  worldly 
successes  have  perhaps  elated  you  for  a  brief  period  ; 
but  your  joy  was  like  the  craclding  of  thorns,  wdiich 
flame  a  moment  and  then  turn  to  ashes.  Some  sfreat 
honor  or  victory  has  lit  up  the  troubled  waters  for 
a  day  ;  but  they  have  still  been  troubled,  and  have 
cast  forth  mire  and  dirt.  You  have  had  a  little  of 
that  feeling  which  oppressed  Cain's  heart  when  he 
went  out  from  the  Lord's  presence  with  a  mark  upon 
him.  You  carry  a  restless,  untamed  secret  within  you. 
It  is  closely  caged,  but  you  constantly  tremble  lest  it 
should  slip  the  bolt,  or  find  an  unfastened  window 
and  fly  out  before  the  whole  community.  This  is  your 
retribution  ;  this  is  the  final  work  of  conscience  in  the 
wrong-doer's  heart.  It  may  vary  in  intensity  under 
different  circumstances  and  at  different  periods  of 
life,  but  it  is  inevitable.  Can  you  prove  that  it  will 
not  be  cumulative  and  eternal  ? 

O  sinner.  Conscience  is  the  sworn  enemy  of  your 
happiness !  She  is  the  Nemesis  of  the  ancients,  dog- 
ging the  footsteps  of  the  criminal,  and  ever  brandish- 
ing her  sword  and  scorpion-w^hip  above  him.  She  tells 
his  secret  to  the  stars,  to  the  winds,  to  the  birds,  to 
the  flowers.  There  is  nothing  in  all  the  earth,  nor  in 
heaven  above,  nor  in  the  depths  beneath,  which  she 
does  not  press  into  her  service.     The  planets  in  their 


160  SERMONS, 

courses  fight  with  her  against  the  fleeing  transgressor. 
The  sun  and  moon  stand  still  that  she  may  complete 
his  overthrow.  The  silence  and  the  darkness  and  the 
moan  of  the  ocean  terrify  him.  The  voice  of  blood 
crieth  out  from  the  ground.  "  I  am  a  sinner,"  is  the 
inward  conviction ;  and  the  mountains  echo  it ;  the 
sunbeams  paint  it ;  the  very  leaves  whisper  back  the 
voice,  "  Thou  art  a  sinner."  "  Guilty  "  is  the  word  ; 
and  it  is  taken  up  and  passed  round  the  universe  till 
everything  learns  it;  and  you  seem  at  length  to  be 
suspended  at  the  centre  of  a  vast  sphere,  hollow  to 
its  surface,  and  all  over  that  surrounding  concave  you 
see  eyes  flashing  with  indignation,  and  hear  millions 
of  voices  from  all  points,  hissing  the  fearful  word 
"guilty." 

We  have  now  analyzed  that  process  which  takes 
place  in  man  as  often  as  any  question  of  duty  comes 
before  him.  Our  mental  history  has  been  spread  out 
around  us  like  a  broad  sea,  and  we  have  looked  forth 
on  the  surface,  witnessing  the  calms  and  tide -cur- 
rents, the  lights  and  shadows  and  storms,  which  play 
over  it. 

This  looking  into  our  experience  has  shown  us,  that 
in  all  questions  involving  the  idea  of  right  and  wrong, 
we  do  at  once  perceive  on  which  side  each  of  these 
two  moral  qualities  lies ;  that  immediately  after  this 
perception  we  feel  an  impulse,  equivalent  to  a  com- 
mand, urging  us  to  pursue  the  right  and  avoid  the 
wrong;  and  that  we  are  rewarded  with  peace  of 
mind,  or  punished  with  ren^orse,  according  as  we 
obey  or  disobey  that  mandatory  voice.  If  we  choose 
the  right,  our  retribution  is  blessed ;  but  if  we  choose 
the  wrong,  our  retribution  is  terrible. 

We  have   seen   enough   to   feel   the   force   of  the 


CONSCIENCE.  161 

apostle's  words.  Let  this  truth  take  up  its  abode  in 
your  thoughts,  my  hearer,  the  fact  that  you  are  a  law 
unto  yourself.  When  you  flee  from  the  Bible,  from 
the  sanctuary,  from  all  places  of  Christian  influence, 
you  do  not  get  away  from  this  tribunal  in  your  soul. 
"  The  mind  is  its  own  place,  and  can  make  a  heaven 
of  hell,  a  hell  of  heaven."  In  the  midst  of  your 
banquetings  and  revelries,  a  hand  often  comes  out, 
and  on  the  wall  over  against  you  writes  your  con- 
demnation in  letters  of  fire.  You  go  forth  from  the 
presence  of  God  and  His  people ;  but  the  mark  set  on 
you  seems  to  be  burning  into  the  living  flesh,  and 
everywhere  betraying  you.  When  the  rush  of  excite- 
ment is  over,  honest  reflection  ensues ;  and  you  throw 
down  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver,  and  sigh  for  annihila- 
tion. You  walk  in  your  pleasure-bower  in  the  cool  of 
the  day  ;  but  suddenly  a  voice  saith,  "  AVhere  art  thou, 
sinner ;  "  and  you  are  afraid,  and  hide  yourself.  It  is 
in  vain  that  you  silence  all  the  tongues  of  reproof ; 
for  when  you  have  created  this  silence,  the  rebukes  of 
the  inward  monitor  become  only  the  more  articulate 
and  audible.  Your  very  heart-throbs  are  startling  to 
you.  Your  sin  rises  up  out  of  its  bloody  grave,  and 
steals  along  after  you,  whispering  its  ghostly  threats 
just  over  your  shoulder. 

There  is  no  peace  for  you  till  the  decisions  of  this 
inward  tribunal  have  been  turned  in  your  favor. 
Some  power  must  be  applied  to  your  conscience  which 
shaU  cleanse  it  from  these  death-dealing  remembrances. 
If  there  be  any  Saviour  to  whom  you  may  transfer 
your  sins,  and  any  Holy  Spirit  who  is  able  to  renew 
your  heart,  they  are  your  only  hope  ;  they  are  the  city 
of  refuge  into  which  you  may  run  and  be  safe  from 
the  avenger. 


THE  BEGINNING  AND   END   OF   SIN. 

But  every  man  is  tempted,  when  he  is  drawn  away  of  his  own  lust, 
and  enticed.  Then,  when  lust  hath  conceived,  it  bringeth  forth  sin  ; 
and  sin,  when  it  is  finished,  bringeth  forth  death.  —  James  i.  14,  15. 

Much  has  of  late  been  said  about  the  punishment 
of  sin.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  our  anxiety  about  the 
punishment  will  not  lead  us  to  overlook  the  sin.  The 
consequences  of  sin,  however  dreadful  they  may  be, 
are  not  so  much  to  be  dreaded  as  sin  itself.  If  we 
could  but  take  care  of  the  causes,  the  effects  would 
take  care  of  themselves.  I  am  sure,  dear  friends, 
that  if  we  had  any  true  sense  of  what  sin  is  at  the 
present  moment  doing  in  our  world,  any  picture  of  a 
retribution  to  come  would  seem  comparatively  tame 
to  us. 

The  word  "  sin  "  is  a  religious  word  ;  a  word,  that 
is,  which  belongs  rather  to  our  religious  than  to  our 
secular  phraseology.  It  suggests  the  idea  of  divine 
rather  than  human  obligation.  Sin  is  transgression 
of  the  law  of  God,  or  want  of  conformity  thereto. 
We  may  consider  all  wrong-doing  as  of  three  special 
kinds,  according  to  the  three  chief  relations  in  which 
every  person  stands.  A  man  is  related  first  to  him- 
self, and  his  wrong-doing  in  this  relation  is  commonly 
known  as  his  vice.  But  secondly  a  man  is  related  to 
his  fellow-men,  and  his  wrong-doing  in  this  relation  is 
his  crime.  Again,  every  man  is  related  to  God,  and 
in  this   relation   his  wrong-doing   is   his   sin.     Vice, 


THE  BEGINNING  AND  END   OF  SIN.      163 

crime,  sin,  —  these  are  the  three  ideas,  each  distinct 
and  standing  by  itself  in  our  thought,  though  they  run 
into  one  another  more  or  less  in  practice.  We  can 
conceive  of  a  man  as  very  vicious  in  life  without  being 
criminal ;  that  is,  he  breaks  no  positive  law  of  the 
state.  Or  a  man  may  be  a  great  criminal,  that  is,  a 
high-handed  violator  of  public  law,  while  he  is  unob- 
jectionable in  his  private  life.  Jefferson  Davis  taught 
a  Bible  class  during  the  war  of  the  Rebellion,  and  was 
in  church  when  he  heard  of  the  surrender  of  Lee. 
But  though  there  may  be  crime  without  vice,  and  vice 
without  crime,  yet  neither  of  these  can  exist  without 
sin.  The  divine  relation  goes  around  those  which  are 
human.  It  includes  them,  and  goes  out  far  beyond 
them.  If  one  is  vicious,  he  sins,  and  if  one  is  crim- 
inal, he  sins  ;  yet  one  may  sin  who  is  neither  vicious 
nor  criminal.  It  is  as  though  there  were  three  circles 
having  a  common  centre.  The  largest  of  the  three 
includes  the  other  two,  and  also  has  a  belt  of  space 
which  is  outside  of  them  both.  Paint  the  inner  cir- 
cles white  or  black,  and  the  outer  circle  is  affected  to 
that  extent ;  yet  if  you  paint  only  the  belt  which  lies 
around  them  in  the  great  circle,  they  are  untouched. 
Thus  It  is  that  you  cannot  have  either  vice  or  crime 
without  having  sin ;  yet  there  may  be  a  broad  belt  of 
sin  running  around  the  soul  between  its  orbit  and 
God,  where  there  is  no  vice  nor  crime.  The  lower 
relations  to  ourselves  and  our  fellow-men  do  not  in- 
clude the  higher,  but  the  higher  include  the  lower. 
All  our  wrong-doing  is  therefore  sinful,  and  hence  sin 
is  the  one  comprehensive  idea  which  includes  all  moral 
evil.  Do  away  with  sin,  and  you  not  only  do  away 
with  vice  and  crime,  but  you  fill  out  the  whole  vast 
circle  of  duty  and  right  from  centre  to  circumference. 


164  SERMONS. 

Every  interest  of  man  and  of  this  temporal  life  is 
secured  to  the  extent  that  God  is  obeyed.  Sin  is 
therefore  the  heart  and  centre  of  every  form  of  wicked- 
ness or  corruption  which  confronts  us  in  the  world. 
To  explain  the  origin  of  this  is  to  account  for  the  ex- 
istence of  all  moral  evil ;  to  do  what  we  can  for  the 
removal  of  sin  from  among  men,  is  to  do  what  we  can 
for  the  final  reign  of  righteousness  in  the  earth. 

The  existence  of  sin  is  a  mystery  which  cannot  be 
satisfactorily  accounted  for ;  yet  the  following  things 
we  may  a£fi.rm  out  of  the  Bible  and  on  grounds  of 
reason :  — 

1.  First,  that  God  made  sin  possible.  He  made  it 
possible  by  creating  man.  If  He  had  stopped  in  the 
work  of  creation  before  coming  to  man,  He  might 
have  had  a  world  here  in  which  there  would  have  been 
no  sin.  There  would  have  been  birds  of  the  air  and 
creeping  things  and  fishes  in  the  sea,  but  no  sin.  The 
sun  might  have  risen  and  set  upon  glorious  continents, 
covered  with  vast  forests  full  of  animal  life,  but  in 
all  his  circuit  he  would  not  have  looked  on  sin.  The 
rank  vegetation  of  the  tropics  may  exhale  poisonous 
odors,  but  it  cannot  sin.  The  monsters  of  the  deep 
can  make  war  on  each  other,  and  lions  growl  and 
fight,  but  they  cannot  sin.  All  these  are  without  con- 
science, without  spiritual  nature,  without  that  imme- 
diate relation  to  God  which  makes  sin  possible.  This 
all  came  to  pass  only  when  God  said,  "  Let  us  make 
man."  What  a  moment  that  was  in  God's  creative 
work !  He  foresaw  all  the  sin  which  would  flow  out 
from  man  over  his  new  world.  Yet  He  did  not  hes- 
itate. There  is  no  break  in  the  process.  Not  only 
does  He  make  man  in  His  own  image,  but  He  declares 
that  He  made  all  other  creatures  for  the  sake  of  man. 


THE   BEGINNING   AND   END   OF  SIN.      165 

He  puts  man  over  them  all  as  their  appointed  lord, 
crowns  him  with  glory  and  honor  on  that  throne  of 
dominion,  and  there  ceases  from  His  work  as  though 
His  creative  power  had  reached  its  climax  in  man. 
He  called  His  other  works  good,  but  man  He  called 
very  good ;  and  the  morning  stars  sang  together,  and 
the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy  over  his  work  thus 
completed  and  crowned.  Dear  friends,  why  all  this 
joy  over  the  creation  of  man,  with  whom  came  the 
possibility  of  sin  ?  Ah,  it  is  because  that  with  the 
possibility  of  sin  came  the  possibility  of  holiness! 
Whether  this  answer  to  the  question  satisfies  us  or 
not,  it  is  all  that  either  reason  or  Scripture  gives.  He 
alone  can  do  right  who  has  power  to  do  wrong.  You 
cannot  have  any  moral  character  if  you  are  not  free. 
Only  those  who  can  be  bad  are  able  to  be  good.  A 
well-deserving  life  springs  out  of  the  same  indepen- 
dent manhood  in  virtue  of  which  one  may  make  his 
life  ill-deserving.  You  coidd  not  live  worthily  if  you 
were  not  able  to  live  unworthily  before  men  and  God. 
In  order  that  God  might  have  a  creature  in  His  uni- 
verse who  could  be  holy.  He  must  make  one  who  could 
be  sinful.  The  lower  orders  of  life  were  not  made  in 
His  image.  They  are  not  His  children  as  man  is. 
We  do  not  read  that  He  breathed  His  own  breath 
into  them,  and  they  became  living  souls.  If  they 
could  not  sin,  neither  could  they  be  holy.  Their  life 
is  not  free,  but  is  regulated  by  natural  laws.  If  they 
are  without  blame  when  they  kill  their  prey,  so  are 
they  without  merit  when  they  feed  and  guard  their 
young.  They  have  no  moral  nature.  Sin  and  holi- 
ness are  alike  impossible  to  them.  But  mth  man,  in 
whom  is  the  possibility  of  sin,  the  capacity  for  holi- 
ness also    comes.     If    God   looked    forward    through 


166  SERMONS. 

human  history,  and  saw  all  the  Pharaohs  and  Jero- 
boams and  Neros  who  would  arise  out  of  that  free-will 
with  which  He  endowed  man,  He  also  saw  the  Enochs 
and  Samuels  and  Johns  and  Pauls.  Nay,  He  saw 
that  bright  consummate  flower  of  our  race,  and  of 
all  history,  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  That  He  might  be 
brought  forth  into  the  world,  and  dwell  among  men 
full  of  grace  and  truth,  there  is  no  possibility  of  evil 
for  which  we  should  not  gladly  make  way.  Though 
our  souls  are  full  of  pain  at  what  we  see  of  the  do- 
ings of  sin  in  the  earth,  yet  we  thank  God  for  it  when 
we  learn  that  it  could  not  be  but  for  that  imagfe  of 
God  in  men  which  has  given  us  the  one  true  and 
great  Light  of  the  world.  You  send  your  son  to  col- 
lege ;  but  his  education  will  only  make  him  stronger 
to  do  evil,  if  he  is  not  inclined  to  do  good.  Yet  you 
send  him,  and  wisely  send  him,  notwithstanding  the 
hazard.  Or  you  endow  your  child  with  your  worldly 
wealth,  as  the  father  in  the  parable  did  his  two  sons. 
You  do  this,  and  what  you  do  must  be  judged  by  it- 
self, though  you  make  it  possible  for  your  child  to  be 
a  prodigal.  The  illustration  is  not  perfect,  I  know, 
since  God  can  foresee  as  we  cannot ;  yet  it  touches  at 
one  point.  There  are  certain  things  which  you  are  in 
fatherly  kindness  bound  to  do  for  your  son,  though 
you  may  foresee  that  he  will  abuse  the  love,  and  not 
be  made  better  by  it  but  worse.  God  must  have  fore- 
seen all  the  evil  as  well  as  all  the  good  when  He  made 
man,  yet  He  did  not  let  the  evil  become  possible  for 
the  sake  of  the  good.  He  foresaw  how  He  could 
overrule  sin,  how  He  could  redeem  men  from  it,  how 
it  would  give  Him  occasion  to  manifest  His  justice 
and  His  grace.  Still  the  question  "why?"  is  not 
fully  answered.     It  may  be  some  time.     The  nearest 


THE  BEGINNING   AND  END   OF  SIN.      167 

we  can  now  come  to  an  answer  is  that  it  was  not  fitting 
that  God  shoukl  be  the  only  free  being  in  the  universe, 
though  with  the  creation  of  finite  beings  who  were 
free  came  the  possibility  of  sin. 

2.  God  made  sin  possible  ;  but,  secondly,  man  has 
made  sin  actual.  This  we  all  admit,  for  it  is  what  we 
all  see.  We  have  taken  the  godlike  freedom  with 
which  we  were  dowered  at  our  birth  that  we  might  be 
holy  as  God  is  holy,  and  in  the  use  of  it  have  made 
ourselves  opposite  to  him.  The  same  high  liberty 
which  in  him  works  out  righteousness  and  truth, 
works  out  sin  in  us.  There  is  no  escaping  this  point. 
Our  consciences  hold  us  to  it.  The  terrible  severity 
with  which  we  denounce  the  wickedness  of  which  the 
earth  is  full,  holds  us  to  it.  Amid  all  the  forms  of 
good  which  look  out  on  us  from  among  the  monuments 
of  our  race,  we  are  forced  to  see  that  every  page  of 
human  history  is  more  or  less  blotted  with  human 
sins.  We  see  them,  and  we  lay  them  at  the  door  of 
the  persons  who  committed  them.  If  they  were  free, 
they  were  responsible,  and  that  is  enough ;  we  do  not 
look  behind  them  to  fuid  something  else  on  which  to 
charge  their  guilt.  If  any  theory  of  fate  in  theology, 
or  any  form  of  science  evolving  mind  and  spirit  out  of 
natural  forces,  comes  along,  that  which  is  best  and 
most  authoritative  in  us  rejects  it.  Our  conscience 
and  soul  know  better.  We  will  not  have  our  own 
remorse  salved  over  in  that  way.  We  will  not  have 
the  monsters  of  wickedness  among  men  made  irre- 
sponsible in  any  such  way.  Sin  is  due  to  man,  not  to 
something  above  or  behind  him.  It  cannot  be  traced 
to  his  circumstances.  So  far  as  it  is  sin,  it  begins  in 
his  own  free  will ;  thence  it  proceeds  and  comes  forth, 
and  defiles  the  man.     His  lusts,  that  is,  his  natural 


168  SERMONS. 

desires  or  propensities,  may  be  a  matter  of  inheritance  ; 
but  not  till  these  have  yielded  themselves  as  Eve 
yielded  in  Eden,  do  they,  in  the  words  of  our  text, 
bring  forth  sin.  The  sin  begins  wholly  in  the  man 
himself,  that  sin  which  when  it  is  finished  bringeth 
forth  death.  Whenever  any  act  of  wrong-doing  has 
been  clearly  traced  to  any  man's  door,  and  he  is  found 
to  be  one  endowed  with  the  common  faculties  of  men, 
it  is  idle  for  him  to  try  to  shirk  his  fault.  We  do 
not  let  him  off ;  nor  does  his  own  conscience,  nor  hu- 
man law.  Adam  tried  to  lay  off  his  sin  on  Eve,  and 
she  hers  on  the  serpent ;  but  God  held  them  each  to 
their  own  doing.  They  knew  the  sin  was  theirs,  or 
they  would  not  have  been  ashamed  and  fled  out  of 
the  garden.  However  deceptive  our  thoughts  may  be 
on  many  subjects,  yet  on  this  one  subject  they  are 
thoroughly  trustworthy,  dear  friends.  We  know  that 
our  sins  are  our  own.  Whatever  may  have  been  our 
wrong-doing  toward  God,  or  men,  or  ourselves,  it  be- 
longs to  us  and  not  to  some  other  person  or  thing. 
We  do  not  thank  anybody  for  trying  to  apologize  for 
us.  If  we  are  honest,  we  do  not  attempt  to  shirk. 
The  fact  of  our  guilt  flames  up  within  us,  and  our  cry 
is  for  that  which  shall  quench  the  flame.  We  take  to 
ourselves  the  words  of  David  in  the  51st  Psalm.  Our 
conscience  laughs  a  horrid  laugh  at  the  man  who 
would  heal  our  hurt  lightly,  or  would  persuade  us  that 
it  is  not  our  hurt,  but  due  to  something  else.  That 
which  shaU  create  a  clean  heart  in  us,  and  renew 
within  us  a  right  spirit,  is  the  only  ministry  which 
can  give  us  true  relief.  And  to  this  strong  cry  of  our 
souls  that  all  sin  begins  in  man,  the  Bible  gives  its 
loud  Amen.  Dear  friends,  did  you  ever  hear  a  man 
madly  say  that  we  shall  soon  get  rid  of  our  Bibles  ? 


THE  BEGINNING  AND  END   OF  SIN.      169 

We  never  sliiiU  till  we  get  rid  of  ourselves.  The  voices 
of  our  own  hearts  are  re-echoed  from  between  its  lids. 
On  a  great  many  points,  and  especially  on  this  subject 
of  sin,  it  speaks  back  to  us  what  our  consciences  affirm. 
It  tells  us  that  man  alone  is  responsible  for  the  exist- 
ence of  sin  in  all  its  smallest  or  mightiest  and  most 
terrible  forms.  "  When  a  righteous  man  turneth  away 
from  his  righteousness,  and  committeth  iniquity,  and 
dieth  in  them,  for  his  iniquity  that  he  hath  done  shall 
he  die.  Again,  when  the  wicked  man  turneth  away 
from  his  wickedness  that  he  hath  committed,  and 
doeth  that  which  is  lawful  and  right,  he  shall  save 
his  soul  alive."  The  iniquities  of  the  fathers  shall 
not  be  on  the  children,  nor  of  the  children  on  the 
fathers ;  the  righteousness  of  the  righteous  shall  be 
upon  him,  and  the  wickedness  of  the  wicked  shall  be 
upon  him.  So  fearful  a  thing  is  it,  dear  friends,  to 
be  made  in  the  image  of  God,  to  be  heirs  and  posses- 
sors of  the  divine  faculty  of  free-will,  to  have  it  left  to 
us  to  say  whether  we  mil  go  upward  or  downward  in 
our  desires,  whether  we  will  be  centres  of  good  or  of 
evil  in  the  world,  whether  we  will  pour  the  light  of 
love  or  the  gloom  and  disorder  of  selfishness  about  us 
on  our  way  through  life. 

3.  God  made  sin  possible,  man  has  made  it  actual ; 
and  the  next  question  is,  Does  habit  make  sin  perpet- 
ual ?  Here  we  must  answer  the  inquiry  as  to  the  con- 
tinuance of  the  punishment  of  sin.  The  punishment 
mil  be  perpetual  if  the  sin  is  perpetual.  Whether 
this  is  a  doctrine  of  any  special  theology,  or  of  the 
Bible  even,  we  need  not  now  stop  to  ask.  It  is  a  doc- 
trine of  every  human  conscience.  You  all  admit,  nay 
you  stoutly  insist,  that  a  man  will  be  punished  with 
remorse  as  long  as  he  sins ;  and  you  also  insist  that  no 


170  SERMONS. 

riglit-mlnded  person  can  look  on  the  wrong-doer  but 
with  displeasure.  But  these  are  the  two  elements  of 
the  punisliment  of  sin.  The  "  worm  "  of  Scripture  is 
the  evil-doer's  own  remorse,  and  the  "  fire  "  of  Scrip- 
ture is  the  displeasure  which  God  and  all  holy  beings 
feel  toward  him.  Will  the  worm  ever  die?  or  will 
the  fire  ever  be  quenched  ?  Yes,  we  most  confidently 
and  gladly  answer ;  they  will  both  come  to  an  end,  if 
the  habit  of  sinning  ever  comes  to  an  end.  Do  away 
with  the  cause  and  you  will  no  longer  have  the  effect. 
Dry  up  the  foimtain  of  sin,  and  the  bitter  waters  of 
punishment  for  it  will  cease  to  flow.  But  will  that 
fountain  be  in  all  cases  dried  up  ?  May  not  the  habit 
of  sinning  become  fixed  and  unchangeable  ?  Your 
experience  and  observation  teach  you  something  here. 
You  say  that  "  an  ounce  of  prevention  is  worth  a 
pound  of  cure."  You  tremble  when  you  see  a  young 
person  forming  an  evil  habit,  for  you  know  the  power 
of  habit.  The  longer  he  continues  in  his  evil  course, 
the  less  hope  you  have  of  him.  Can  you  not  think 
of  some  for  whom  you  have  almost  ceased  to  hope, 
nay,  for  whom  you  have  no  hope  whatever  left?  Here 
is  the  question.  Let  the  light  of  your  experience 
shine  upon  it,  and  think  it  out  for  yourself.  However 
tenderly  you  may  long  for  any,  and  though  the  way 
of  life  is  open  to  every  soul,  yet  you  know  better  than 
I  can  tell  you,  how  improbable  it  is  that  one  to  whom 
sin  has  become  a  second  nature  will  ever  cease  from 
sinninof. 

I  am  anxious  to  hold  your  minds  to  the  one  fact  of 
sin,  dear  friends,  not  letting  them  wander  off  to  "  the 
wages  of  sin,"  in  order  that  you  may  not  mistake  the 
motives  which  should  lead  you  to  seek  deliverance 
from  sin.     Not  the  punishment  of  wrong-doing,  but 


THE  BEGINNING   AND   END   OF  SIN.     Ill 

wrong-doing*  itself  is  what  you  slioukl  be  afraid  of. 
As  holiness,  though  attended  by  peace  and  joy,  is 
nobler  than  they,  so  sin  is  a  worse  evil  than  the 
remorse  with  which  it  is  ever  joined.  Holiness  is  so 
excellent  that  we  ought  to  seek  it,  though  it  should 
fill  us  with  pain ;  wickedness  is  so  base  that  we  ought 
to  shun  it,  though  it  were  sure  to  fill  us  with  peace 
and  joy.  Our  conduct,  that  is,  should  be  just  what 
our  conscience  now  tells  us  it  ought  to  be,  though  its 
consequences  to  us  should  be  just  the  reverse  of  what 
we  have  as  yet  found  them  to  be.  If  wrong  could 
open  the  kingdom  of  heaven  to  you,  it  would  be  your 
duty  to  shun  it,  as  you  are  bound  to  do  right  whatever 
misery  it  may  seem  to  you  to  involve. 

What  is  that  death,  dear  friends,  which  sin  is  said 
to  bring  forth  when  it  is  finished  ?  Do  not  think  of 
it  as  some  outward  king  of  terrors  which  rushes  sud- 
denly upon  you,  or  as  a  kind  of  judicial  infliction 
which  an  unfeeling  sheriff  administers.  Think  of  it 
as  something  very  different  from  that.  It  is  a  dying 
process  going  on  within  you,  which,  if  never  arrested 
but  allowed  to  work  itself  fuUy  out,  will  end  in  spirit- 
ual death.  That  is  the  death  which  comes  to  the  sin- 
ning soul.  Your  sins,  if  persisted  in,  will  at  length 
separate  between  you  and  God,  so  that  you  shall  no 
more  feel  the  light  of  His  love ;  they  will  withdraw 
you  from  His  jiresence  into  outer  darkness,  where  you 
will  be  without  Him,  and  without  hope  in  the  world. 
That  you  should  suffer  for  your  sins  is  not  so  great  an 
evil  as  that  you  should  sin ;  for  the  suffering  may  do 
you  good,  but  the  sin  mars,  distorts,  and  spoils  that  in 
you  which  is  noble  and  like  God.  Ah,  if  you  could 
see  the  sin  as  it  is,  and  its  steady  tendency  toward 
spiritual  death  in  you,  you  would  not  need  to  be  told 


172  SERMONS. 

of  any  other  punisliment !  You  would  cast  it  from 
you  as  St.  Paul  cast  the  viper  which  had  fastened  on 
his  hand  into  the  fire.  You  would  thank  God  for  His 
warning's  to  you  not  to  delay  repentance,  but  to  seek 
His  face  wliile  it  is  called  to-day,  lest  the  fangs  of  the 
sinful  habit  become  securely  fastened  in  you,  and  its 
deadly  poison  extended  to  the  very  sources  of  your 
life.  I  need  not  tell  you  that  sin,  when  thus  finished, 
brings  forth  death.  You  have  eyes  as  well  as  I.  You 
see,  and  you  reason  from  what  you  see ;  and  creed  or 
no  creed,  you  are  j^erfectly  certain  that  sinful  habits 
may  be  persisted  in  till  all  true  spiritual  life  shall  be 
destroyed. 

But  the  Bible  speaks  to  us,  dear  friends,  as  though 
that  life  in  us  were  already  extinct.  It  says  that  the 
death  which  sin  produces  has  come  upon  the  world ; 
not  that  we  shall  die  in  trespasses  and  sins,  but  that 
we  are  dead  in  them.  This,  however,  is  not  the  final 
death,  not  the  death  from  which  there  is  no  resurrec- 
tion. It  is  a  kind  of  suspended  animation  in  which 
our  spirits  now  are.  We  are  not  twice  dead,  not 
plucked  up  by  the  roots.  Some  of  us  may  have  more 
spiritual  life  than  others,  but  we  all  have  enough  to 
believe  in  Jesus  Christ.  He  is  our  resurrection  and 
our  life.  He  will  raise  us  up.  He  came  that  we 
might  have  life,  and  that  we  might  have  it  more 
abundantly.  However  much  sin  may  have  benumbed 
your  soul,  you  to-day  have  life  enough  in  you  to  take 
hold  on  Him  who  is  the  bringer  of  life  to  you  from 
God ;  but  if  you  delay  that  act  of  faith  till  the  work 
of  sin  is  finished  up  in  you,  what  prospect  have  you 
that  you  will  perform  it,  whether  in  this  world  or  the 
next,  or  though  there  were  a  thousand  worlds  to  come  ? 
Our  great  and  blessed  hope,  full  of  immortality,  is 


THE  BEGINNING  AND  END   OF  SIN      173 

that  Jesus  Christ  has  come  into  this  world  to  save  us ; 
and  without  trying  to  draw  aside  the  solemn  veil  of 
the  future,  let  our  knowledge  of  what  sin  itself  is,  and 
of  the  slow  death  with  which  it  is  even  now  torturing 
us,  keep  us  from  saying  to  Him,  ''  Go  thy  way  for  this 
time,"  and  make  us  hasten  to  His  feet  to  say,  "  My 
Lord  and  my  God." 


THE   VALLEY   OF  VISION. 

Come  from  the  four  winds,  0  breath,  and  breathe  upon  these  slain, 
that  they  may  live.  —  Ezek.  xxxvii.  9. 

"Who  are  the  slain  ?  Wherein  are  they  slain  ? 
What  has  slain  them  ?  Why  are  they  a  mournful 
sight?  What  glad  fact  does  the  vision  of  them  take 
for  granted  ?  And  how  can  they  be  made  to  live  ? 
These  are  some  of  the  questions  which  the  text  leads 
us  to  ask,  and  to  which  the  word  of  God  gives  us 
explicit  answers. 

1.  In  regard  to  the  first  question,  Who  are  the 
slain  ?  it  is  clear  (1)  that  they  are  not  those  faithful 
servants  of  God  whom  He  has  taken  to  Himself.  For 
they  never  die.  They  live  on,  though  slain  with  the 
sword.  The  God  of  Abraham  is  not  a  God  of  the 
dead,  but  of  the  living  ;  all  live  unto  Him.  "  Whoso- 
ever liveth  and  belie veth  in  Me  shall  never  die,"  said 
Christ  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus.  Those  devoted  Chris- 
tians of  every  age  and  country,  who  have  passed  into 
the  life  beyond  life,  are  most  effectually  doing  God's 
work  where  they  now  are.  We  ought  not  to  wish 
them  back  again  in  the  flesh.  We  do  not  think  of  a 
valley  of  dry  bones,  like  that  which  the  prophet  saw 
in  vision,  when  we  recall  their  names.  Are  they  not 
all  ministering  spirits?  They  are  the  cloud  of  wit- 
nesses by  which  we  are  compassed  about.  They  in- 
spire us  with  their  presence,  and  their  works  do  follow 
them  in  the  earth.     There  is  no  occasion  to  call  for 


THE  VALLEY  OF  VISION.  175 

any  divine  breath  to  come  and  breathe  on  them  and 
make  them  live ;  for  they  were  never  more  alive,  or 
more  active  in  promoting-  the  glory  of  God,  than  now, 
wherever  they  may  be  in  His  dominions.  (2)  Nor 
can  the  slain  to  whom  this  question  points  us  be  those 
whom  Christ  has  never  yet  made  alive.  Undoubtedly 
the  dead  in  soul,  those  who  are  dead  toward  God,  are 
meant ;  but  not  those  who  have  never  yet  believed. 
Only  that  which  is  alive  can  be  slain ;  and  the  Bible 
nowhere  represents  unconverted  men  as  alive,  but  as 
spiritually  dead.  Adam  was  slain  in  soul,  and  died 
unto  God,  in  the  day  when  he  forsook  God.  But  all 
his  posterity,  St.  Paul  argues,  became  dead  in  him. 
"  As  in  Adam  all  die,  so  in  Christ  shall  all  be  made 
alive."  "You  hath  He  quickened,"  says  the  same 
apostle  in  another  place,  "  who  were  dead  in  trespasses 
and  sins."  They  had  never  been  alive.  They  were 
born  with  their  spirits  dead  toward  God.  They  had 
never  communed  with  God,  or  even  known  Him, 
though  He  was  their  Father,  till  Christ  quickened 
them.  There  is  sore  need  that  the  breath  should  come 
from  the  four  winds  and  breathe  on  these  spirits 
which  have  never  yet  lived  ;  but  they  are  not  the  slain 
over  whom  the  yearning  cry  in  our  text  is  lifted  up. 
(3)  The  slain  here,  dear  friends,  are  those  whom  the 
Spirit  once  made  alive  to  God,  but  who  have  fallen 
away  from  Him  under  the  power  of  the  world.  Back- 
sliders, worldly-minded  Christians,  those  who  neglect 
their  religious  duties,  and  break  the  vows  of  God 
which  are  upon  them,  church-members  who  are  living 
the  lives  of  unbelievers,  —  they  are  the  slain  for 
whom  this  prayer,  "  Come,  O  breath,"  is  offered. 
The  breath  of  life,  which  is  God's  indwelling  spirit, 
has  gone  out  of  them ;  and  the  call  to  that  spirit  is  to 


176  SERMONS. 

come  back  into  them.  The  proj^het  Ezekiel  thought 
of  the  members  of  the  church  of  God  in  His  day. 
They  were  gone  into  the  power  of  their  enemies. 
They  were  scattered  among  the  nations.  They  had 
forgotten  the  Lord  that  bought  them,  and  were  bow- 
ing down  to  idols.  Only  a  small  remnant  of  faith- 
ful ones  survived  to  bewail  the  apostasy  of  the  many. 
Is  it  not  strikingly  so  now  ?  Plow  small  the  propor- 
tion of  Christ's  nominal  followers,  even  here  among 
us,  who  are  earnestly  laboring  with  Him !  Is  not 
our  own  church  sadly  like  the  scene  in  the  valley  of 
vision?  A  few,  thank  God,  have  not  been  slain  by 
the  worldliness  about  them.  But  are  they  not  almost 
all  scattered  ?  Are  they  not  inconstant  and  weak  in 
their  devotion  to  Christ,  or  utterly  indifferent  to  Him  ? 
Of  the  ten  lepers  whom  Christ  cleansed,  but  one  re- 
turned to  give  glory  to  God.  "  Where  are  the  nine  ?  " 
is  the  question  which  we  are  all  the  time  constrained 
to  ask,  when  we  see  how  few  are  eager  to  be  at  the 
place  of  prayer,  and  to  give  themselves  to  the  sadly 
neglected  work  of  the  church.  "  Slain,  slain,  slain  !  " 
is  the  exclamation  which  rushes  to  our  lips  as  we 
think  of  the  scores  upon  scores  of  nominal  Christians 
right  about  us,  who  are  mouldering  away  in  their 
worldliness,  undisturbed  by  the  appeal  which  goes 
forth  to  them,  to  come  up  with  us  to  the  help  of  the 
Lord  against  the  mighty. 

2.  But  wherein  lies  the  appropriateness  of  this 
image  ?  In  what  respect  are  idle  professors  of  reli- 
gion "  slain  "  ?  They  have  fallen,  and  their  spiritual 
life  has  gone  out  of  them,  though  not  beyond  the 
power  of  God  to  send  it  back  into  them.  The  word 
"slain"  is  taken  from  the  vocabulary  of  war.  It 
suggests  a  battlefield,  where   armed   hosts   are   mar- 


THE  VALLEY  OF  VISION.  177 

shalled  in  deadly  strife.  We  look  over  the  ground 
where  Christ,  the  Captain  of  His  people,  has  been 
leading  them  against  their  enemies.  Those  enemies 
have  proved  too  mighty  for  them.  They  were  not 
clad  with  the  whole  armor  of  God.  They  did  not  take 
the  w^eapons  which  are  mighty  to  the  puUing-down 
of  strongholds.  Instead  of  conquering  their  enemies, 
they  have  fallen  down  before  them.  They  have  let 
themselves  be  slain,  as  with  the  sword,  by  their  jeal- 
ousy and  ambition  and  pride,  by  their  strifes  and  sus- 
picions among  themselves,  by  their  love  of  ease,  by 
their  devotion  to  pleasure  and  to  gain,  by  their  weari- 
ness in  well-doing,  by  their  dread  of  inconvenience 
and  hardship  for  Christ's  sake.  As  soldiers  of  Christ 
they  are  slain  by  these  enemies,  and  their  bones  lie 
bleaching  in  the  valley.  They  are  dead  in  spirit, 
killed  in  soul ;  of  no  more  use  to  the  Captain  of  our 
salvation  in  fighting  his  battles  against  sin  than  the 
hosts  which  sleep  on  the  field  of  a  Waterloo  or  Gettys- 
burg are  for  the  purposes  of  carnal  strife.  They  are 
dead  soldiers  of  the  Lord  ;  buried,  —  nay,  unburied, 
for  w^e  cannot  hide  from  our  eyes  the  ghastly  spectacle 
which  they  make  while  they  lie  together  on  the  field 
where  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil  clove  them 
dow^n. 

3.  If  we  should  go  on  and  attempt  to  gain  a  fuU 
knowledge  of  each  foe  concerned  in  this  slaying  of 
God's  people,  there  would  be  an  endless  task  before 
us.  It  may  be  said  of  them,  as  of  the  evil  spirits 
that  went  out  of  the  man  in  the  gospel,  that  their 
name  is  legion.  Chief  among  them  is  unbelief,  that 
easily  besetting  sin,  which  in  all  its  forms  is  an  adder 
in  our  path,  a  hungry  lion  wdiich  croucheth  at  our 
door.     If  we  could  keeD  ourselves  from  trusting  in 


178  SERMONS. 

anything  but  Christ ;  if  we  were  all  the  time  con- 
scious of  being  given  up  to  Him,  and  of  glorying  in 
nothing  save  His  cross ;  if  we  could  have  that  faith 
in  the  progress  and  final  triumph  of  His  kingdom 
which  is  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  the  evi- 
dence of  things  not  seen,  —  we  should  at  once  get  the 
victory  over  ten  thousand  foes  to  our  spiritual  life. 
These  foes  I  cannot  enumerate.  They  are  as  manifold 
and  various  as  the  daily  fortunes  and  changes  of  our 
lives.  Sometimes  they  come  in  battalions  ;  sometimes 
perhaps,  though  rarely,  alone.  They  may  be  outward, 
or  may  make  the  assault  within  our  hearts.  They  are 
anything  which  separates  between  us  and  our  God ; 
anything  which  dims  the  vision  of  eternal  things,  and 
of  the  destiny  of  souls  out  of  Christ ;  anything  which 
keeps  us  from  consecrating  ourselves  to  the  Lord's 
service,  or  which  tempts  us  to  grow  remiss  in  our  duty 
to  Him.  These  are  the  destroying  angel  which  flies 
over  our  dwellings,  leaving  death  in  every  house  where 
the  blood  of  the  paschal  lamb  is  not  found.  These 
are  the  giants  and  the  Anakim,  before  which  w^e  fall 
down  slain  the  moment  our  faith  in  God  wavers. 
These  are  the  Philistines  who  oppress  us  and  put  out 
our  eyes ;  the  Syrians  and  the  Assyrians  who  make 
war  upon  us ;  the  Benhadads  and  Nebuchadnezzars 
who  carry  us  away  into  captivity.  If  any  are  weak 
among  us,  or  any  sleep ;  if  we  seem  to  sit  in  the  midst 
of  the  slain,  and  no  army  gathers  at  the  sound  of  the 
trumpet  to  march  with  us  against  the  hosts  of  sin,  it 
is  because  God's  people  have  fallen  back  from  their 
great  Leader,  and  have  allowed  a  bewitching  but  de- 
ceitful world  to  get  the  dominion  over  them. 

4.  And  now,  ceasing  to  ask  who  slew  all  these,  let 
us  turn  to  the  scene  itself,  —  this  great  multitude  of 


THE  VALLEY  OF  VISION.  179 

church-members  who  have  a  name  to  live,  but  are 
dead.  Is  it  not  a  sight  too  mournful  for  any  words 
to  describe  ?  A  spiritual  graveyard ;  a  battlefield 
from  which  the  victorious  enemies  of  truth  have 
marched  away,  and  left  the  slain  friends  of  God  lying 
about  in  mouldering  heaps.  We  beautify  our  cem- 
eteries where  men's  bodies  are  buried.  There  the 
good,  the  young,  the  venerable,  the  gentle-hearted 
softly  lie,  and  sweetly  sleep,  low  in  the  ground.  Even 
on  great  fields  of  battle,  the  grim  aspect  of  death 
soon  i^asses  away,  and  the  grass  and  flowers  overgrow 
the  graves  of  the  dead.  It  does  not  affright  or  dis- 
tress us  to  visit  such  spots.  They  are  hallowed  by 
great  memories.  They  charm  us  with  their  quiet  dells, 
their  shady  walks,  their  silent  recesses.  We  are  reluc- 
tant to  quit  them ;  for  they  fill  us  with  tender  visions, 
with  calm  thoughts,  with  noble  resolves.  But  how 
different  the  spiritual  cemetery  on  which  God  to-day 
looks  in  His  backsHdden  and  worldly  church !  No 
beauty  here,  but  a  ghastly  spectacle,  at  which  the  very 
soul  in  us  should  creep  I  This  scene,  in  which  our 
God  walks,  is  not  the  Eden  of  old  which  He  made 
and  fenced  about ;  it  is  a  Golgotha,  —  a  place  of 
skulls  and  bleaching  bones.  Oh  how  we  should  envy 
the  buried  dead,  who  sleep  in  Christ,  when  we  contrast 
their  blessed  peace  with  the  wretched  state  of  the 
dead  in  soul,  slain  by  their  love  of  the  world,  whose 
unburied  forms  moulder  before  our  eyes !  Slain  in 
spirit,  killed  at  their  souls'  centre,  their  love  of  Christ 
withered  and  dead,  the  hopes  of  heaven  which  once 
flourished  in  their  hearts  now  a  whitened  and  crum- 
bling heap.  Aside  from  this  mournfulness  of  the 
spectacle  in  itself,  consider  (1)  What  a  hindrance  it 
is  to  tlie  word  of  truth.     I  do  not  here  offer  any  de- 


180  SERMONS. 

fense  of  those  who  point  to  backsliders  in  the  church 
as  their  reason  for  continuing  in  the  world.  Christ 
has  come  and  spoken  unto  all  men,  and  if  any  will 
not  hear  His  words,  they  have  no  cloak  for  their  sin. 
We  may  always  find  some  who  show  by  their  lives  that 
Christ  has  saving  power.  When  men  are  in  search  of 
excuses,  they  will  find  them  somewhere.  Even  Christ 
Himself  was  a  stumbling-block  to  the  Jews.  In  our 
own  hearts  is  the  place  where  we  are  to  look,  if  we 
would  know  why  we  shoidd  come  after  Christ.  But 
while  the  sins  of  church-members  are  no  excuse  for 
the  worldling,  his  responsibility  is  no  excuse  for 
them.  And  though  they  alike  stand  or  fall  to  the 
same  Master,  it  is  the  duty  of  Christ's  own  people  to 
honor  Him  before  men.  They  are  the  light  of  the 
world.  They  are  the  salt  of  the  earth.  The  world 
should  not  make  them  its  Bible,  but  it  does.  If  they 
fall  away  from  Christ,  slight  His  service,  and  become 
spiritually  dead,  other  men  are  slow  to  begin  the  new 
life.  They  fear  a  similar  result  in  their  own  case. 
Hence  the  word  of  truth  is  hindered  and  made  weak. 
The  salt,  so  far  from  saving  anything,  has  lost  its 
savor,  and  is  itself  trodden  under  foot  of  men.  (2) 
And  not  only  do  lapsed  and  worldly  Christians  hin- 
der the  truth.  Consider  how  great  good  they  might 
accomplish  if  all  were  earnestly  at  work  for  Christ. 
A  dead  army  discourages  its  friends,  and  makes  its 
enemies  feel  strong.  But  if  there  be  a  noise,  and  a 
shaking,  and  the  bones  come  together,  bone  to  his 
bone,  and  the  sinews  and  the  flesh  come  upon  them, 
and  they  are  covered  with  the  skin  above,  and  the 
breath  breathes  upon  them,  then  they  stand  up  on 
their  feet,  an  exceeding  great  army.  Their  awaken- 
ing out  of  death,  and  rising  up  as  one  host  in  battle 


THE  VALLEY  OF  VISION.  181 

order,  revives  the  fainting  heart  of  the  prophet.  He 
no  longer  mourns,  but  is  full  of  joy.  He  feels  strong 
and  safe,  and  is  sure  of  victory.  If  all  the  people  in 
this  city,  who  profess  to  love  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
were  united  as  one  man,  and  wholly  alive  in  witness- 
ing for  Him  and  pressing  His  claims  on  the  ungodly, 
worldliness  and  unbelief  here  would  soon  be  things  of 
the  past.  If  all  nominal  Christians  throughout  the 
world  were  thus  united  and  devoted,  we  should  soon 
hear  the  cry,  "  The  kingdoms  of  this  world  have  become 
the  kingdom  of  our  Lord."  No  wonder,  then,  that  the 
valley  of  vision  is  a  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  to 
earnest  Christians.  Nothing  else  so  tries  their  faith. 
Nothing  else  so  weakens  their  hands.  Nothing  else 
so  turns  the  truth  into  a  lie.  Nothing  else  so  holds 
them  back  from  the  conquest  of  sin  and  unbelief. 

5.  But,  dear  friends,  it  is  not  all  death,  not  all 
gloom.  There  is  one  glad  fact  which  even  the  lament 
in  our  text  takes  for  granted.  The  prophet  was  yet 
alive,  and  God  had  not  forgotten  to  be  gracious. 
There  is  hope  for  Zion,  great  hope,  so  long  as  there  is 
a  remnant  who  cry  unto  God  for  her,  and  who  will  not 
hold  their  peace  till  He  makes  her  a  praise.  The 
captives  hanging  their  harps  on  the  willows,  refusing 
to  sing  songs,  sitting  down  by  the  rivers  of  Babylon 
in  their  tears,  are  indeed  a  mournful  sight.  But  God 
will  have  regard  to  such  love  for  His  church.  The 
devotion  of  the  faithful  few,  weeping  over  the  desola- 
tions of  Zion  when  they  remember  her,  is  precious  in 
His  sight.  There  was  hope  for  Israel  even  in  the 
time  of  Ahab,  because  of  the  seven  thousand  who  had 
not  bowed  the  knee  to  Baal.  Ezra  and  Nehemiah, 
full  of  faith  and  holy  purpose  amid  the  ruins  of  Jeru- 
salem, are  a  pledge  that  its  temple  and  walls  shaU  be 


182  SERMONS. 

rebuilt.  There  was  hope  that  the  bondmen  would  go 
out  of  Egypt,  when  Moses  arose  to  pity  their  wrongs. 
The  captivity  should  surely  return  into  their  own  land, 
out  of  all  the  countries  into  which  they  had  been 
driven ;  for  Daniel  was  praying,  and  Ezekiel  and 
Isaiah  prophesying,  and  in  every  place  a  chosen  few 
were  crying  unto  God  to  remember  His  covenant. 
The  soldiers  of  Christ  will  live  again,  though  the 
world  has  slain  them,  wherever  there  are  enough  ear- 
nest soids  to  compass  the  altar,  and  cry  unto  God  for 
the  sacred  fire  to  fall  from  heaven.  A  hundred  and 
twenty  thus  praying  brought  the  first  great  revival  in 
the  Christian  church.  God  would  have  spared  Sodom 
if  there  had  been  ten  righteous  men  in  it.  Solomon 
tells  us  of  a  poor  man,  so  obscure  that  no  one  remem- 
bered him,  who  saved  a  city.  How  many  times  Israel 
provoked  God,  yet  for  His  servant  David's  sake  He 
would  not  destroy  the  wicked  nation.  It  is  a  sad  sight 
which  the  prophet  beholds,  sitting  in  the  vaUey  full  of 
dry  bones ;  yet  the  prophet  himself,  beseeching  the 
breath  to  come  from  the  four  winds,  relieves  the  scene. 
We  have  hope  even  for  the  dead,  while  we  look  on 
him  and  listen  to  his  earnest  cry.  So  at  the  present 
time,  though  God's  people  have  been  slain,  and  are 
fallen  down  in  multitudes  before  their  enemies,  we 
have  hope.  Not  all  are  killed.  There  are  those  left 
who  love  the  church,  and  who  bewail  its  desolations. 
They  show  their  love,  not  only  by  their  tears,  but 
by  their  efforts.  They  are  ready  to  give  their  time, 
to  give  their  money ;  to  go  out  of  their  particular 
churches  and  join  heart  and  hand  with  all  Christians ; 
to  lay  aside  their  special  tastes  and  methods,  and  to 
work  in  such  ways  as  God  seems  to  be  now  choosing 
for  the  gathering  in  of  the  lost.     Is  there  not,  even  in 


THE   VALLEY   OF  VISION.  183 

this,  a  noise  and  a  shaking?  and  though  God  may 
still  further  try  our  faith,  yet  should  not  this  which 
we  already  see  be  a  sign  to  us  that  God  is  ready  to  let 
His  light  shine,  and  to  make  His  glory  rise  upon  us  ? 

6.  If  such  be  the  glad  quickening  which  is  about 
to  come,  what  are  its  instruments?  Through  what 
agencies,  or  by  what  means,  are  the  multitudes  of 
nominal  Christians  about  us,  now  dead  in  worldliness 
and  unbelief,  to  be  revived  in  soul,  and  drawn  together 
as  one  loyal  host  after  the  advancing  standard  of  the 
cross  ?  (1)  The  first  grand  instrument  is  the  plain 
and  pointed  preaching  of  God's  word.  "Prophesy 
upon  these  bones,  and  say  unto  them,  O  ye  dry  bones, 
hear  the  word  of  the  Lord."  Don't  hear  fables,  don't 
hear  theories,  don't  hear  speculations,  but  hear  the 
word  of  the  Lord.  So  important  was  it  that  the 
prophet  should  proclaim  God's  word  and  nothing  else, 
that  in  sending  Him  to  Israel,  God  said,  "All  My 
words  that  I  shall  speak  unto  thee  receive  in  thine 
heart,  and  hear  with  thine  ears.  And  go,  get  thee 
unto  them  of  the  captivity,  unto  the  children  of  thy 
people,  and  speak  unto  them,  and  tell  them.  Thus 
saith  the  Lord  God,  whether  they  will  hear  or  for- 
bear." God  has  never  authorized  any  one  to  preach 
anything  but  His  word,  in  all  efforts  either  for  the 
quickening  of  backsliders  or  the  gathering  in  of  the 
unsaved.  That  word  was  the  two-edged  sword  put  into 
the  hands  of  the  prophets  and  into  the  hands  of  the 
apostles.  Besides  their  own  consecrated  lives,  nothing 
was  said  to  them  about  using  any  other  weapon.  And 
this  they  were  to  use  at  all  hazards,  when  men  yielded 
to  it,  and  when  they  mocked.  Is  it  possible,  dear 
brethren,  that  any  of  us  do  not  see  that  the  word  of 
God  is  still  the  most  effective  weapon  we  can  wield  ? 


184  SERMONS. 

Look  at  the  conquests  which  are  being  won  with  it  at 
the  present  day.  The  Bible  has  been  called  an  anti- 
quated book,  worn  out  and  outgrown.  Its  enemies 
have  tried  to  prove  that  it  contradicts  science  and  his- 
tory, that  it  teaches  bad  morals,  that  it  is  inconsistent 
with  itself.  They  have  buried  it  and  burned  it ;  they 
have  held  it  up  to  ridicule,  and  denounced  it  as  the 
chief  enemy  of  human  progress.  Yet  to-day,  in  the 
most  enlightened  cities  of  the  world,  where  learning 
and  philosophy  have  their  proudest  seats,  the  Bible  is 
still  a  two-edged  sword.  The  greatest  intellects  bow 
to  it  as  to  no  other  book.  It  draws  whole  populations 
together  to  be  charmed,  convinced  of  sin,  comforted, 
purified,  and  blessed,  as  nothing  else  ever  has  or  ever 
can.  You  may  call  it  '^  foolishness,"  but  it  is  wiser 
than  men.  You  may  call  it  "weakness,"  but  it  is 
stronger  than  men.  Oh  that  we  might  learn  to  obey 
God,  and  speak  nothing  but  His  word  wherever  we 
prophesy,  in  view  of  the  proofs  that  He  owns  and 
crowns  such  faithfulness,  of  which  all  history  and  the 
whole  world  are  full !  (2)  But  while  the  Lord's 
servant  thus  prophesied,  he  also  prayed.  "Come 
from  the  four  winds,  O  breath,  and  breathe  upon 
these  slain,  that  they  may  live."  This  was  the  burden 
of  his  supplication  for  the  dry  bones,  after  he  had 
spoken  God's  word  unto  them.  The  bones  came  to- 
gether, and  were  covered  with  the  flesh  and  the  skin 
while  he  prophesied  ;  but  there  was  no  life  in  them. 
They  lay  silent  and  motionless,  still  a  vast  field  of  the 
dead,  waiting  for  the  mighty  breath  to  come  from  the 
four  winds.  So  our  proclaiming  of  God's  word  to 
the  dead  in  sin  is  not  enough.  We  may  awaken  curi- 
osity, we  may  stimulate  inquiry,  we  may  produce  a 
fair  external  morality ;  but  there  is  no  breath,  no  spir- 


THE  VALLEY  OF  VISION.  185 

itual  life,  no  indwelling  Christ,  no  kingdom  of  God 
set  up  in  the  soul.  For  that,  the  great  and  blessed 
object  of  all  our  striving,  we  must  betake  ourselves 
to  prayer.  ''  Come,  O  breath  !  Holy  Ghost,  blessed 
Comforter,  Spirit  of  all  truth,  only  Kegenerator  and 
only  Sanctifier,  Essence  and  Life  of  the  Eternal  God, 
thou  art  all  our  hope.  Come,  as  thou  didst  when 
the  place  where  the  disciples  were  met  together  was 
shaken,  and  breathe  upon  these  slain,  and  they  shall 
live."  That  is  the  prayer  which  must  break  from  aU 
our  hearts,  with  strong  crying  and  tears,  if  we  would 
see  the  dead  bodies  stand  upon  their  feet,  an  exceeding 
great  army,  ready  to  follow  the  Captain  of  our  sal- 
vation whithersoever  He  shall  lead  them.  The  Holy 
Spirit  must  take  of  the  things  of  Christ,  and  show 
unto  them  that  are  dead  in  sin.  The  truth  which 
quickens  and  saves  does  not  enter  into  the  natural 
man  and  abide  there.  He  welcomes  it,  and  is  made 
one  with  Christ  by  it,  only  as  He  has  the  Spirit  of 
God.  Elijah  can  repair  the  altar  of  the  Lord,  and 
lay  on  it  the  sacrifice ;  but  not  till  the  fire  descends 
from  heaven  do  the  people  fall  on  their  faces  and 
say,  ''The  Lord,  He  is  the  God;  the  Lord,  He  is 
the  God."  The  disciples  can  roll  away  the  stone 
from  the  door  of  the  sepulchre,  but  not  till  the  voice 
of  eternal  love  pierces  its  gloom  do  the  dead  come 
forth. 


HOW   ONE'S   THINKING  IS   HIMSELF. 

For  as  he  thinketh  in  his  heart,  so  is  he.  —  Prov.  xxiii.  7. 

Many  lessons  of  encouragement  and  of  warning 
may  be  drawn  from  these  words,  some  of  whicli  you  are 
now  invited  to  consider.  Solomon  is  speaking  of  the 
way  in  which  one  should  conduct  himself  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  ruler.  He  should  not  presume  at  all  on  the 
ruler's  polite  treatment  of  him,  for  behind  that  out- 
ward courtesy  there  may  be  an  evil  intent.  Not  as 
he  seems  and  speaks  is  the  ruler,  but  as  he  thinks  in 
his  heart.  He  may  use  smooth  words  more  to  hide 
than  to  express  his  meaning.  Do  not  estimate  him 
by  what  you  see  and  hear,  but  wait  tiU  you  know 
what  the  thoughts  of  his  heart  toward  you  are,  if 
you  would  rightly  judge  him.  Though  it  is  true  that 
his  tliinking  must  give  color  to  his  behavior,  and 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  successful  hypocrisy  to  the 
practiced  eye,  yet  the  thinking  is  the  man,  the  be- 
havior is  not. 

1.  The  first  lesson  of  the  text,  then,  is  that  our  real 
manhood  or  womanhood  is  independent  of  everything 
outward.  It  is  what  the  tenor  of  our  thoughts  is." 
Though  the  inward  tends  to  work  outward,  yet  you 
may  be  a  good  man  or  woman  under  a  forbidding 
exterior,  and  you  may  be  a  bad  man  or  woman  uiider 
a  fair  exterior.  You  remember  Abner  and  his  fate  at 
the  hand  of  Joab.  Joab  sent  him  a  very  polite  invita- 
tion to  come  to  Hebron,  and  he  came.     And  there,  in 


HOW  ONE'S    THINKING  IS  HIMSELF.      187 

the  gate,  having  taken  him  aside,  and  while  speaking 
quietly  to  him,  as  if  to  show  him  some  special  cour- 
tesy, he  "  smote  him  under  the  fifth  rib,  that  he  died." 
So  also  did  Joab  treat  Amasa,  another  rival  warrior, 
of  whose  influence  with  the  new  king  David  he  was 
jealous.  Amasa  was  deceived  by  fair  words  and  po- 
lite treatment,  as  Abner  had  been.  The  true  Joab 
was  not  the  man  who  said,  "Art  thou  in  health,  my 
brother  ?  "  and  took  him  by  the  beard  with  the  right 
hand  and  kissed  him,  but  the  man  who  underneath 
all  this  was  contriving  to  slay  him.  Just  the  opposite 
to  tliis  in  manner  often  was  the  behavior  of  men  who 
were  full  of  a  friendly  spirit.  King  Saul  had  no 
truer  friend  than  Samuel,  yet  how  terribly  Samuel 
rebuked  him !  The  reproofs  of  Nathan  to  David  were 
a  true  kindness  ;  he  found  them  to  be  an  excellent 
oil  wdiich  did  not  break  his  head.  The  destroyers  of 
Ahab  were  Jezebel  and  her  prophets  who  so  flattered 
him ;  it  was  Elijah,  sternly  upbraiding  him,  who 
yearned  to  save  both  him  and  his  kingdom.  The  poet 
Shakespeare,  in  his  tragedy  of  King  Lear,  has  given  a 
vivid  picture  of  what  I  am  now  trying  to  make  plain. 
When  the  old  king  wdshes  to  lay  aside  public  cares, 
and  is  about  to  divide  up  his  kingdom  among  his 
three  daughters,  how  profuse  the  two  elder  in  words 
of  strong  and  undying  aif ection !  while  the  other 
daughter  is  so  measured  in  speech  as  to  seem  not  to 
care  for  her  father's  rich  gifts.  He  is  deceived  by 
these  difl^erent  manners.  He  gives  all  his  goods  to  the 
two  crafty  ones  who  afterwards  break  his  heart,  and 
drives  from  his  presence  the  true  child  for  whose  sake 
his  lost  kingdom  is  afterwards  returned  to  him.  She 
was  the  true  woman  at  the  first,  for  her  thoughts 
were  true ;  and  for  this  true  womanhood,  shown  out- 


188  SERMOiXS. 

warclly  in  the  end,  her  father  crowned  her.  This 
lesson,  so  often  set  us  in  common  history,  making  so 
many  of  the  charms  and  surj^rises  of  actual  life,  is 
made  specially  prominent  all  through  the  Bible.  As 
you  think,  so  you  are.  Do  not  rely  on  the  outward 
appearance  which  you  make,  dear  friend.  That  is 
not  you.  That  is  not  the  man.  You  are  what  your 
habitual  thinking  is.  Do  the  beautiful  vestments 
clothe  a  noble  and  pure  manhood,  or  do  they  hide  a 
soul  which  is  full  of  corruption  ?  is  the  question  for 
you  to  consider.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  if  you  have 
nothing  outward  to  recommend  you,  if  there  is  no 
beauty  in  you  that  others  desire,  if  your  face  is  more 
marred  than  any  man's,  yet  none  can  be  truer  than 
you,  none  w^orthier.  Oh  how  it  reconciles  us  to  the 
diversities  of  human  allotments,  some  so  helped  and 
some  so  hindered  in  life,  some  strong  and  healthy  and 
some  sick  and  feeble  always,  some  born  to  wealth  and 
some  to  poverty,  some  never  lacking  friends  and  some 
w^ithout  human  friends,  some  conspicuous  and  influ- 
ential and  some  obscure  and  unhonored,  —  how  it 
reconciles  us  to  all  this  diversity  to  see  that  none  of  it 
stands  in  the  way  of  that  which  alone  gives  us  value 
in  God's  eyes !  Your  kingdom  is  within  you.  Your 
outward  condition  does  not  put  a  chain  on  your  soul. 
The  brother  of  high  degree  has  no  occasion  to  despise 
the  brother  of  low  degree,  and  the  brother  of  low 
degree  has  no  occasion  to  envy  the  brother  of  high 
degree;  for  what  each  of  them  thinks,  that  he  is. 
You  are  base  if  the  tenor  of  your  thoughts  is  base, 
and  noble  if  your  whole  inward  life  is  noble. 

2.  Another  lesson  to  be  drawn  from  this  text  is, 
that  you  must  watch  the  free  action  of  your  soul  if 
you   would   know   what   sort    of   a    person  you  are. 


HOW  ONE'S   THINKING   IS   HIMSELF.       189 

There  is  a  grain  of  truth  in  the  fancy  that  men  reveal 
their  real  character  in  their  dreams,  that  in  their  cups 
they  show  what  they  are.  They  do,  so  far  as  their 
whole  inner  man  is  excited  and  left  to  act  itself  out 
freely.  The  sons  of  Zebedee  once  in  a  moment  of 
excitement  betrayed  themselves,  their  sudden  anger 
showing  in  them  a  spirit  which  they  did  not  know. 
The  warrior  Achilles,  who  was  passing  himseK  off  for 
anything  but  a  warrior,  showed  his  military  passion 
when  it  was  appealed  to  while  he  happened  to  be  off 
his  guard.  Dear  friends,  take  yourselves  out  of  the 
midst  of  all  the  restraints  from  evil  and  all  the  incen- 
tives to  good  which  now  surround  you,  and  what  would 
you  be  ?  If  honesty  should  cease  to  be  the  best  policy, 
would  you  continue  to  be  honest  ?  If  it  were  just  as 
safe  to  tell  lies  as  to  teU  the  truth,  would  you  keep  on 
telling  only  the  truth  all  the  same  ?  If  you  could  get 
just  as  good  a  name  by  keeping  aU  your  money  as  by 
gi\4ng  away  freely,  would  you  go  on  giving  precisely 
as  before  ?  If  idleness  were  just  as  reputable  as  dili- 
gence, rude  manners  just  as  well  liked  as  kind  man- 
ners, if  you  were  sure  of  just  as  many  friends  by 
showing  yourself  unfriendly  as  by  showing  yourself 
friendly,  would  you  continue  to  be  as  careful  in  these 
things  as  you  now  are?  If  so,  you  have  gained  a 
great  victory.  Your  manhood  is  of  the  true  stamp. 
It  needs  not  to  be  bolstered  up  by  anything  outward. 
Leave  your  soul  to  itself.  Let  it  act  freely.  And 
then  let  its  action  take  shape  in  external  pictures,  and 
be  reflected  upon  you.  Would  it  make  a  fresco  which 
you  would  like  to  contemplate  ?  Yet  the  thinking  — 
the  free  inner  life,  that  is,  as  our  text  says  —  is  the  man. 
If  that  is  good,  if  that  is  sound,  if  that  is  pure,  then 
you  may  shut  your  eyes  and  see  what  is  more  glorious 


190  SERMONS. 

than  all  sensuous  beauty.  You  can  find  nothing  else 
in  this  world  so  fair  as  a  beautiful  soul.  Having  the 
witness  to  this  inheritance  within  you,  you  can  treat 
outward  grandeurs  as  Christ  did  the  kingdoms  and 
glory  of  the  world.  You  can  be  content,  as  He  was, 
not  to  have  where  to  lay  your  head.  Then  not  only 
are  you  a  king  and  priest  to  God,  whatever  your 
temporal  condition,  but  you  have  been  born  of  God. 
That  wondrous  change  which  Christ  works  out  in  the 
soul  in  which  He  dwells,  is  going  forward  within  you. 
He  is  in  that  inner  life  of  yours,  and  is  its  corner- 
stone. God  is  building  you  up  on  Him.  His  spirit 
witnesses  with  your  spirit  that  your  soul,  His  living 
temple,  is  rising  higher  and  higher,  and  in  all  its  rooms 
becoming  fairer  and  more  vast.  He  laid  the  founda- 
tion, and  He  will  lay  the  topmost  stone ;  and  all 
through  the  divine  process,  though  no  human  eye 
admires  it,  you  can  secretly  sing  for  joy,  anticipating 
the  day  when  the  work  shall  be  complete,  and  when 
the  angels  of  God  shall  shout,  "  Grace,  grace  unto  it." 
3.  Again,  we  may  gather  from  our  text  that  the 
sources  of  one's  manhood  are  in  his  thoughts.  They 
are  the  mould  of  his  character.  They  determine 
M  hether  he  shall  be  great  or  small,  honorable  or  dis- 
honorable, before  God.  Since  it  is  true  that  as  we 
think  in  our  hearts  so  we  are,  if  we  think  large 
thoughts  we  shall  become  large-souled,  or  if  we  think 
only  small  thoughts  our  souls  will  be  dwarfed  and 
shrivel  up ;  if  we  think  pure  thoughts  our  manhood 
or  womanhood  will  be  pure,  but  they  will  be  impure  if 
our  thoughts  are  impure  ;  if  our  minds  dwell  all  the 
time  on  earthly  things,  our  whole  character  vnll  grovel, 
whereas  it  will  shine  with  a  heavenly  brightness  if  our 
conversation  is  in  heaven.     Now  here  is  a  trial  or  test 


HOW  ONE'S   THINKING  IS   HIMSELF.      191 

which  God  brings  to  us  all.  We  stand  at  the  point 
from  which  two  divergent  roads  start  off.  God  puts 
before  us  good  and  evil,  and  He  says  to  each  one  of 
us,  ''  Choose  thou."  The  alternative  is  not  merely  for 
some ;  it  is  for  all.  God  is  impartial ;  his  gracious 
gifts  are  without  monopoly  or  stint.  It  is  just  as  open 
to  the  poorest  as  to  the  richest  to  have  his  soul  con- 
cerned with  great  thoughts ;  just  as  easy  to  the  un- 
learned as  to  the  learned ;  no  harder  for  the  tender  in 
years  than  for  the  wise  and  prudent.  Such  thoughts 
bend  over  us  all,  like  the  sky  with  its  stars.  AV hat- 
ever  your  earthly  condition,  dear  friends,  this  high 
culture  of  your  soul  is  wholly  within  your  reach.  No 
man  can  shut  you  out  from  it.  Let  not  your  blind- 
ness, your  weak  yielding  to  what  you  call  your  un- 
friendly fate,  keep  you  from  entering  upon  it.  God 
has  come  to  shepherds,  to  slaves,  to  fishermen,  to  car- 
penters. And  thus  He  still  comes.  The  lower  down 
you  are  in  life,  the  more  He  loves  to  stoop  to  you 
and  to  raise  jou  up  above  them  that  are  high.  The 
mighty  themes  of  the  gospel  are  all  yours,  and  you 
may  be  moulded  by  them  if  you  wiU.  If  you  turn 
downward  among  frivolities  and  impurities,  and  make 
them  the  companions  of  your  thoughts,  then  alas  for 
you  !  You  are  sowing  to  the  flesh,  and  of  the  flesh 
shall  reap  corruption.  But  if  you  shut  the .  door  of 
your  heart  against  this  ignoble  herd,  and  keep  it  open 
to  Him  who  comes  with  the  bright  train  of  heavenly 
themes,  then,  in  your  shop,  in  your  store,  in  your 
office,  in  your  home,  on  your  wharf  or  your  ship,  on 
your  railway  train,  you  shall  grow  daily  into  the  like- 
ness of  the  glorious  truths  wdiich  are  your  company. 
You  will  make  yourself  pure  by  walking  wdth  Him 
who  is  infinitely  pure.     Your  whole  inner  life  is  made 


192  SERMONS. 

nobis  by  your  fellowsMp  with  Christ,  for  as  you  think 
in  your  heart  so  you  are.  You  know  what  the  words 
mean,  "  Keep  thy  heart  with  all  diligence,  for  out  of  it 
are  the  issues  of  life."  Your  own  experience  is  your 
bbssed  key  to  that  text.  You  love  to  read  the  words 
of  St.  Paul :  "  Finally,  brethren,  whatsoever  things  are 
true,  whatsoever  things  are  honest,  whatsoever  things 
are  just,  whatsoever  things  are  pure,  whatsoever  things 
are  lovely,  whatsoever  things  are  of  good  report ;  if 
there  be  any  virtue,  and  if  there  be  any  praise,  think 
on  these  things."  You  have  thought  on  them,  and 
they  have  lifted  you  up  to  their  own  level.  You  have 
lived  in  heaven  till  you  have  caught  its  spirit.  You 
have  walked  with  God  till  the  brightness  of  His  char- 
acter shines  out  from  yours. 

4.  Or  we  may  take  our  text  as  referring  to  the 
purposes  which  lie  at  the  bottom  of  all  our  activity. 
What  is  our  intention  ?  Why  are  we  doing  as  men 
see  us  doing  in  our  open  life  ?  There  is  the  thought 
of  something  to  be  gained,  of  some  object  to  be  won, 
in  all  this  activity  on  which  men  look.  Is  the  purpose 
selhsh,  or  is  it  unselfish  ?  Are  we  thinking  to  do  some- 
thing which  will  bless  our  fellow-men,  or  does  our  se- 
cret thought  tell  us  that  if  we  succeed  we  shall  do  them 
harm  ?  Is  it  our  purpose  to  glorify  God,  or  simply  to 
please  ourselves  ?  Here  again,  in  this  new  view  of  it, 
it  is  his  purpose  of  which  he  is  thinking  in  his  heart, 
which  makes  or  unmakes  the  man.  Is  your  purpose 
high  ?  it  will  lift  you  up  to  itself.  Is  it  low  ?  it  wiU 
drag  you  down  to  itself.  Christ  said  to  His  disciples, 
"  Where  I  am,  there  shall  ye  be,"  for  they  had  in  them 
a  holy  faith  and  purpose  which  took  hold  on  Him. 
They  could  rise  no  higher  than  their  purpose,  as  we 
cannot.     Dear  friends,  the  external  work  which  you 


HOW  ONE'S   THINKING  IS  HIMSELF.       193 

do  may  all  your  lives  be  wholly  noble.  And  noble 
friends  may  surround  you.  And  you  may  dwell  in 
noble  mansions,  full  of  all  noble  books  and  pictures. 
And  you  may  look  out  on  the  noblest  landscapes,  and 
have  noble  teachers,  examples,  and  opportunities,  and 
yet  be  very  ignoble  yourself.  No  men  ever  had  nobler 
surroundings,  so  far  as  this  world  goes,  than  the  Roman 
emperors,  some  of  whom  touched  the  lowest  bottom  in 
the  slough  of  moral  baseness.  And  what  was  true  of 
them,  has  been  true  of  many,  who  had  about  them 
every  incentive  to  a  large  and  sound  manhood.  In 
spite  of  all  helps,  they  went  down  so  low  that  the 
greatest  kindness  we  can  do  them  is  to  forget  them. 
Their  low  purpose  unmanned  and  destroyed  them  in 
the  midst  of  all  their  grandeurs.  On  the  other  hand, 
you  may  have  none  of  the  advantages  which  they  had. 
You  may  be  utterly  forlorn  and  wretched  in  external 
condition.  But  is  it  your  fixed  and  unconquerable 
purpose  to  be  a  true  man  or  a  true  woman,  all  that 
Christ  meant  when  He  used  those  words  ?  Is  He  the 
pattern  which  you  have  set  before  you,  and  which 
your  soul  is  on  fire  to  see  realized  in  yourself,  what- 
ever troubles  you  must  wade  through  ?  Then  is  that 
sacred  purpose  all  the  time  moulding  you.  Christ 
feeds  it  out  of  His  own  life  through  secret  channels. 
It  is  a  part  of  His  own  fullness  which  He  has  breathed 
into  you,  and  it  will  lift  you  to  Him  as  surely  as  it 
came  forth  from  Him. 

5.  Again,  the  fact  that  a  man  is  as  he  thinks  in  his 
heart  makes  him  responsible  for  him>self  in  a  very 
peculiar  and  solemn  way.  If  what  you  are  to  be  in 
the  future  depended  on  something  outside  of  yourself, 
dear  friend,  you  might  say  that  it  is  your  fate  which 
makes  you  bad  or  which  makes  you  good.     No  man's 


194  SERMONS. 

circumstances  lift  liim  to  God,  and  no  man's  circum- 
stances cast  liim  down  from  God.  This  rising  or  sink- 
ing on  the  scale  of  moral  and  spiritual  worth  is  the 
result  of  his  own  deepest  and  inmost  life.  He  thinks 
himself  down  into  vice,  into  crime,  into  the  power  of 
his  appetites,  into  a  brutish  and  wicked  and  revolting 
state.  Or,  on  the  other  hand,  he  thinks  himself  up 
into  integrity,  manliness,  the  love  of  all  truth  and  of 
Him  who  was  the  truth.  And  the  choice  of  the  path 
along  which  our  thinking  shall  take  us  is  left  to  our- 
selves. No  one  can  force  us  to  turn  either  to  the  right 
hand  or  the  left.  However  bound  or  hampered  we 
may  be  in  other  respects,  in  our  thoughts  we  are 
wholly  free.  In  this  kingdom  within  us  we  reign  un- 
hindered. Our  dominion  over  our  thoughts  is  absolute. 
And  since  the  thoughts  make  the  man,  or  unmake 
him,  we  cannot  put  the  blame  off  on  something  else, 
but  must  take  it  wholly  to  ourselves,  if  we  are  dwarfed 
and  distorted  in  soul  when  we  come  up  before  God. 
Our  manhood  or  womanhood  is  something  intrusted 
to  us,  which  we  are  to  keep  and  to  answer  for,  just  as 
truly  as  the  talents  were  intrusted  to  the  servants  or 
the  vineyard  to  the  husbandmen.  You  can  be  a  good 
man  if  you  will,  no  matter  what  hinders,  since  it  de- 
pends on  the  thoughts  of  your  heart,  which  are  free. 
How  this  power  within  you  exalts  you  above  all  the 
other  works  of  God's  hand !  It  takes  you  out  of 
nature,  and  raises  you  into  the  realm  of  the  super- 
natural. What  a  sense  we  have  of  the  preciousness  of 
the  human  soul,  while  we  see  it  thus  supreme  over  all 
things  about  it,  independent,  free  to  go  whichever  way 
it  will !  No  groove  has  been  made  for  it  in  which  it 
must  forever  move  on.  It  thinks  what  it  pleases,  and 
hence  becomes  what  it  wills  to  be.     No  other  creature 


HOW  ONE'S    THINKING   IS   HIMSELF.       195 

on  earth  has  this  power.  The  fact  that  we  have  it 
proves  that  we  are  the  children  of  God.  It  was  given 
to  us  that  in  virtue  of  it  we  may  hokl  ourselves  up  in 
communion  with  the  Father  of  our  spirits ;  what  con- 
demnation, then,  do  we  deserve  to  meet  at  His  hands, 
if  we  use  it,  against  all  the  other  helps  which  He 
gives,  to  sink  ourselves  far  from  Him !  Rejoice,  O 
man,  at  that  godlike  spirit  which  is  in  you,  but  rejoice 
with  trembling  if  you  are  ever  tempted  to  think  vain 
thoughts,  or  to  harbor  anything  in  your  heart  which 
is  turning  you  away  from  your  heavenly  Father's  face. 
No  diffioulties  or  want  of  opportunities  can  harm  you 
so  long  as  you  are  true  to  yourself,  and  all  the  helps 
which  either  God  or  man  can  give  will  not  save  you  if 
you  have  become  false  to  yourseK.  Nothing  outside 
of  you,  but  your  own  thinking,  is  either  making  or 
destroying  you.  If  the  thoughts  of  your  heart  are 
base,  you  are  sinking  down  lower  and  lower ;  but  if 
they  are  noble,  they  are  the  wings  on  which  you  are 
steadily  rising  higher  and  higher. 

6.  There  is  one  other  point,  dear  friends,  on  which  I 
wish  to  say  a  word.  What  do  you  think  of  Christ  ? 
How  does  He  seem  to  you  ?  and  how  do  you  think  of 
yourself  in  reference  to  Him  ?  Do  you  think  of  Him 
as  your  Master,  and  of  yourself  as  His  servant  ?  If 
not,  should  you  not  immediately  begin  to  do  so  ?  For 
in  this  case,  as  in  all  the  others  named,  it  is  largely 
true  that  as  you  think  so  you  are.  Perhaps  this 
should  not  be  said  to  all  men ;  but  are  there  not  some 
here  whose  first  duty  is  to  think  of  themselves,  and 
grow  into  the  habit  of  thinking  of  themselves  as  ser- 
vants of  Jesus  Christ?  To  the  rash,  conceited  man 
it  may  be  said,  "  Let  him  that  thinketh  he  standeth 
take  heed  lest  he  fall."     To  him  who  is  eaten  up  with 


196  SERMONS. 

the  opinion  of  his  own  righteousness  should  come  the 
text,  "  If  a  man  think  himself  to  be  something  when 
he  is  nothing,  he  deceiveth  himself."     But  there  are 
others,  I  am  persuaded,  who  have   done  themselves 
great  harm,  and  are  still  doing  it,  by  being  unwilling 
to  think  of  themselves  as  Christ's  disciples.     I  deny 
no  great  truth  as  to  their  need  of  the  work  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  in  their  hearts,  or  the  desirableness  that 
they   should   have  clear  evidence  of  such  work;  yet 
have  they  not  repelled  themselves  from  Christ,  till 
they  now  seem  to  be  far  from  Him,  just  by  the  habit 
of  thinking  that  they  do  not  belong  to  Him  ?     This 
feeling  grew  up  early  in  your  heart,  dear  friend.     It 
was  put  there  perhaps  by  some  wrong  teaching,  or  by 
some  wrong  impression  which  you  got  of  the  truth. 
You  ceased  to  class  yourself  with  God's  people,  and 
learned  to  think  of  yourself  as   belonging  with  His 
enemies.     And  this  soon  grew  to  be  a  habit,  and  is 
now  even  a  matter  of  conscience  with  you.     You  can 
think  of  no  great    change,  either  outward  or  inward, 
which  you  need  to  undergo.     Your  Christian  friends 
wonder  why  you  are  unwilling  to  be  ranked  with  them. 
No  one  regards  you  as  a  foe  to  the  cause  of  Christ, 
for  you  love  to  honor  and  help  it  in  many  ways.     Dear 
friend,  is  there  not  just  one  change  which  you  need  to 
undergo,  and  that  a  change  in  your  way  of  thinking 
of  yourself  ?     Thus  far  you  have  not  thought  of  your- 
self as  one  of    Christ's  disciples.     But   change  that 
habit,  and  think  in  your  heart  from  this  time  forward 
that  you  are  His  follower,  and  see  if  the  result  will 
not  be  most  blessed  to  you.     It  will  give  you  a  new 
point  of  view,  from  which  you  will  see  Christ  and  His 
people  and  all  Christian  truth  putting  on  a  new  look. 
Thinking  that  you  are  Christ's  friend,  you  will  soon 


HOW   ONE'S    THINKING   IS  HIMSELF.       197 

find  that  you  are  His  friend.  Numbering  yourself 
with  His  disciples,  it  will  gradually  dawn  upon  you 
that  you  are  His  disciple.  Engaging  in  His  work  as 
not  only  His,  but  yours,  you  will  come  to  know  and  to 
feel  that  He  is  yours  and  you  are  His. 


THE  IDEAL   LIFE. 

But  it  shall  be  one  day,  which  shall  be  known  to  the  Lord,  not  day, 
nor  night :  but  it  shall  come  to  pass,  that  at  evening  time  it  shall  be 
light.  —  Zech.  xiv.  7. 

This  text  pictures  to  us  tliat  glorious  state  to  which 
the  whole  church  of  God  shall  one  day  come,  and  in 
which  every,  man  already  is  to  the  degree  that  he 
dwells  in  God  and  God  in  him.  When  the  life  of 
God  is  formed  within  our  lives  so  as  to  fill  us  with  its 
blessed  tides,  then,  dear  friends,  the  unchangeableness 
of  God  also  becomes  ours.  Our  religious  experience 
is  not  now  stormy  and  now  serene,  not  now  a  day  and 
now  a  night ;  it  is  always  one  and  the  same  thing,  and 
there  is  in  it  a  depth  of  joyous  peace  which  neither 
sunlight  nor  starlight  can  figure  forth. 

We  are  most  familiar  with  the  second  half  of  the 
text,  "  It  shall  come  to  pass  that  at  evening  time  it 
shall  be  light,"  and  we  often  use  it  in  a  way  quite 
foreign  to  the  prophet's  purpose.  Putting  a  meaning 
on  the  words  which  our  lot  in  life  or  that  of  our  friends 
suggests  to  us,  the  "  evening  time,"  bright  and  calm, 
is  the  quiet  old  age  which  succeeds  to  an  active  and 
troubled  life ;  or  it  is  the  feeling  of  rest  and  victory 
which,  in  the  midst  of  life,  comes  to  us  when  we  have 
fought  some  hard  and  long  battle  through  to  a  success- 
ful end.  How  like  a  stormy  day  succeeded  by  a  golden 
sunset  many  of  the  most  valuable  lives  are !  Looking 
upon  the  flaming  west  and  walking  toward  it,  while 


THE   IDEAL   LIFE.  199 

the  angry  clouds  are  rolling  away  eastward  behind  us, 
we  are  like  the  worn  soldier  of  the  cross,  —  his  cam- 
paigns now  ended,  heaven  opening  before  him,  and  a 
nobler  and  nobler  glory  lighting  up  his  face  as  he 
moves  on  toward  the  immortals.  We  have  often  seen 
the  clear  morning  sun  shining  through  the  rain-cloud, 
and  painting  there  the  bow  which  forewarned  us  to  be 
ready  for  the  tempest.  How  soon  that  early  bright- 
ness was  obscured!  The  heavens  grew  black  and 
wild,  and  all  things  on  the  earth  —  the  birds,  the  ani- 
mals, the  trees,  and  the  streams  of  water  —  seemed 
to  shi'ink  and  creep  with  apprehension.  Even  the  sea 
grew  dark,  and  hushed  its  voice,  as  if  getting  all  its 
store  of  might  ready  for  the  onset.  Then  the  wind 
came,  first  in  gentle  puffs,  hardly  cooling  our  cheek, 
turning  the  light  leaves,  and  barely  rippling  the  sur- 
face of  the  water.  But  at  length  the  thimder,  whose 
distant  rumble  had  been  marshaling  the  elements, 
sounded  the  charge  with  its  terrible  voice,  when  they 
all  rushed  to  the  battle.  The  trees  bent  and  moaned 
in  the  blast,  and  many  of  them  were  broken  or  up- 
torn.  The  summer  brooks,  swollen  to  mad  torrents, 
swept  away  the  farmer's  fences,  and  drowned  his  crops. 
The  fierce  cannonade  of  the  waves  and  the  headlands 
began.  The  flying  and  whirhng  clouds  shut  out  the 
sky.  And  all  living  things  sought  shelter  from  the 
wind  and  rain.  We  have  often  seen  such  a  day  as 
this.  And  then,  near  its  close,  we  have  seen  the  wind 
cease  to  blow  and  the  rain  to  descend.  The  west  srew 
bright,  and  the  thunder  died  away.  The  bow  was  on 
the  receding  storm.  The  sunlight  began  to  stream  in 
the  groves  and  along  the  lawns,  every  drop  of  water 
in  the  grass  and  on  the  buds  was  itself  a  gem,  and 
the  sun  was  floating  away  in  an  expanse  of  emerald 


200  SERMONS. 

and  gold,  —  all  together  making  a  scene  too  bright, 
too  sweet,  too  peaceful,  too  uplifting  and  satisfying  for 
tongue  or  pencil  to  describe.  How  often  we  have  sat 
in  such  a  sunset,  and  thought  of  the  words  of  our 
text,  "  It  shall  come  to  pass  at  evening  time  that  it 
shall  be  light."  And  then  there  have  come  up  before 
us  the  names  of  the  brave  and  faithful  in  Christ  Jesus, 
whose  lives  had  been  like  that  day  of  tempest,  but 
whose  last  days  were  like  that  setting  sun.  We  say 
that  Bunyan  was  right  in  making  a  Beulah  end  the 
weary  journey  of  liis  pilgrim.  Job  had  a  bright  even- 
ing at  the  close  of  his  day  of  trial ;  and  so  had  Jacob, 
and  David,  and  the  apostle  John ;  nor  has  this  Sab- 
bath at  the  end  of  life  been  denied  to  many  another 
heroic  servant  of  Christ,  whom  the  world  fiercely 
assailed,  but  of  whom  the  world  was  not  worthy.  Or 
perhaps,  as  we  sit  in  that  bright  ending  of  the  stormy 
day,  we  look  around  on  our  friends  who  are  in  any 
trouble,  and  say  to  them,  "  Behold  what  your  trial  is 
bringing  you  to."  We  try  to  comfort  him  whose  body 
disease  has  invaded,  and  who  fears  that  he  must  carry 
an  aching  brain,  and  drag  after  him  weary  limbs,  the 
rest  of  his  life.  We  cheer  him  by  telling  him  to  look 
beyond  the  gloomy  present  to  the  evening  time  when 
it  shall  be  light.  We  say  to  those  whose  eartlily  ex- 
pectation has  been  cut  off,  whose  business  has  all  gone 
wrong,  whose  efforts  to  do  good  and  be  usefid  make 
them  no  friends,  who  sit  in  sadness  at  home  while  the 
blossoms  over  which  their  hearts  yearn  are  fading 
away,  who  find  the  struggle  against  temptation  in 
their  own  hearts  and  lives  so  desperate  that  they  fear 
the  issue,  —  to  all  such,  and  to  any  other  children  of 
men  who  are  sorely  tried,  we  say,  "  See  what  a  bed  of 
glory  has  been  given  to  yonder  sun  on  which  to  sink 


THE   IDEAL   LIFE.  201 

to  rest,  and  think  of  the  clay  of  storms  which  is  just 
over.  Expect  such  an  ending  to  your  sorrows,  your 
afflictions,  your  trials,  your  temptations.  It  is  com- 
ing, coming,  —  that  evening  time  in  which  it  shall  be 
light ;  if  not  yours  in  this  life,  it  shall  be  in  the  next ; 
for  what  is  heaven  but  a  bright  endless  evening,  where 
all  your  trouble  shall  be  turned  into  peace,  and  from 
which  you  shall  look  back  only  to  praise  and  bless 
your  God  for  the  life  on  earth  which  He  gave  you?  " 
Thus  do  we  comfort  one  another  with  these  words. 
But  they  have  a  greater  meaning  than  that  which 
I  have  now  brought  out.  It  is  not  the  hope  of  bless- 
edness in  the  far  future  so  much  as  the  possession 
of  it  where  we  now  are,  right  in  the  midst  of  sorrow, 
struggle,  and  tumult,  that  the  text  offers  us.  If  we 
have  in  us  the  life  of  God,  that  life  which  comes 
through  union  to  Christ,  our  evening  time  in  which  it 
shall  be  light  is  the  present  darkness  through  which 
we  are  passing.  There  is  no  waiting  for  the  storm  to 
pass  over,  but  in  the  midst  of  it  we  are  as  calm  as 
the  ocean  depths  beneath  the  stormy  waves,  we  are 
as  radiant  as  the  sun  smiling  above  the  clouds.  The 
"  evening  time  "  of  which  the  prophet  speaks  is  not 
that  which  comes  before,  but  that  which  comes  after 
the  going  down  of  the  sun ;  it  is  not  a  bright,  calm 
evening  at  the  close  of  a  stormy  day,  but  a  gloomy 
night  following  a  day  which  has  been  calm  and  sunny. 
You  who  are  not  in  the  midst  of  trouble  and  difficulty, 
who  are  in  health  and  prosperity,  but  who,  knowing 
the  common  lot,  anticipate  trials  in  store  for  you,  need 
have  no  dread  of  those  trials.  They  may  shut  down 
upon  you  in  blackness  and  tempest,  but  the  life  of 
God  in  your  soul  will  make  the  night  light  about  you. 
You  need  not  fear  the  time  of  adversity,  however  sure 


202  SERMONS. 

you  may  be  that  it  is  coming,  or  however  near  it  may 
be.  The  darkness  and  the  light  are  both  alike  to 
Him  with  whom  you  are  walking.  Let  the  evening 
time  come!  it  shall  only  prove  that  you  live  and 
move  in  God.  Let  it  come  !  for  you  there  is  no  dark- 
ness, no  storm  or  gloom,  even  though  it  be  the  even- 
ing time.  Your  whole  body  is  filled  with  that  life 
which  is  the  light  of  men.  It  is  all  one  to  you 
whether  darkness  or  sunshine  rests  on  the  face  of  the 
earth  about  you.  You  have  no  need  of  the  sun  to 
shine  upon  you,  or  the  moon  to  give  you  light  by 
night,  for  God  is  your  glory  and  the  Lamb  doth 
lighten  you.  Thus  does  your  faith,  making  you  one 
with  God  and  causing  you  to  dwell  in  heaven,  take 
away  all  power  to  hurt  you,  from  the  evil  days  to 
come.  But  you  may  already  be  in  the  midst  of  the 
evening  time,  dear  friends.  Is  your  bright  day  over? 
Has  your  sun  suddenly  gone  down,  and  are  you  shut 
in  by  a  night  of  gloom  ?  Then  it  becomes  you  to  ask 
whether  the  blessed  promise  of  the  text  is  made  good 
to  you.  Is  your  God  one  who  gives  you  songs  in  the 
night?  Do  you  find  yourself  upheld  while  you  walk 
in  darkness,  being  stayed  on  him  ?  Passing  through 
the  deep  waters,  do  you  find  that  they  do  not  overflow 
you  ?  and  have  you  grace  and  strength  for  your  trial, 
however  great  it  is  ?  If  a  hearty  yes  is  your  answer 
to  one  and  all  of  these  questions,  then  it  is  certain 
that  the  life  of  God  has  entered  into  and  is  filling 
your  life.  There  is  not  power  for  such  an  experience 
in  our  unhelped  human  nature.  If  we  thus  triumph 
over  the  sorest  present  ills,  we  must  do  it  in  the 
strength  of  God.  It  is  his  shadow  over  us  which 
makes  us  abide  in  perfect  peace.  Our  peace  which 
the  world  cannot  take  away,  is  not  a  peace  which  the 


THE   IDEAL   LIFE.  203 

world  gave.  God  gives  it  to  us  by  His  own  blessed 
indwelling,  and  it  is  the  peace  of  God  which  passeth 
understanding.  It  is  the  peace  which  was  Christ's, 
and  wliich  He  gave  to  His  disciples,  who  were  in  Him 
as  He  was  in  the  Father.  Do  not  stand  in  doubt  of 
yourself,  dear  friend,  though  you  see  not  this  light  in 
your  evening  time  as  clearly  as  you  would.  You  are 
compassed  about  by  infirmities.  The  life  of  God  in 
you  must  struggle  with  these.  You  cannot  yet  say 
that  your  night  shines  about  you  as  your  day  once  did. 
But  if  you  have  brightening  gleams  of  this  experi- 
ence, if  you  can  say  that  adversity  is  not  all  adver- 
sity, as  prosperity  was  not  all  prosperity,  and  that  in 
them  both  you  have  a  sweet  fellowship  with  God 
which  is  fojjever  independent  of  all  earthly  conditions, 
then  may  you  be  sure  that  you  are  at  least  beginning 
to  receive  into  your  soul  the  one  blessedness  which 
can  never  come  to  an  end,  which  is  all  the  time  grow- 
ing and  intensifying  within  you  ;  the  blessedness 
which  is  your  assurance  that  God  has  come  down  into 
your  life,  and  that  he  is  steadily  drawing  your  life 
more  and  more  up  into  his. 

But  not  even  yet  have  we  fathomed  the  meaning 
of  our  text.  We  need  to  look  at  the  first  half  o£ 
it  as  well  as  the  second.  Listen  !  ''  It  shall  be  one 
day,  which  shall  be  known  to  the  Lord,  not  day  nor 
night."  One  continuous  day  is  the  life  of  the  true 
Christian ;  not  a  day  made  by  the  shining  of  the 
natural  sun,  and  put  out  when  the  evening  comes ; 
a  day  which  God  knows,  and  of  which  He  is  the 
source ;  not  a  natural  day,  half  dazzling  sunshine 
and  half  blinding  darkness ;  something  supernatural, 
unchanging,  immortal ;  not  the  garish  day  nor  the 
thick  night,  but  an   everlasting  light,  which  has  aU 


204  SEIiMONS. 

the  good  of  our  natural  morning  and  evening  without 
any  of  the  evil.  We  may  call  it  morning  or  evening, 
just  which  we  choose,  since  there  is  no  exact  word  for 
it ;  but  it  is  a  morning  which  does  not  dazzle,  and  an 
evening  which  does  not  take  away  the  light.  It  is 
neither  morning  nor  evening,  nor  such  a  day  as  we 
know,  but  one  which  God  knows,  which  is  within  the 
light  of  setting  and  of  rising  suns,  and  which  we  find 
as  our  quickened  faith  makes  us  more  and  more  one 
with  God.  Oh  what  an  hour  of  peace  and  rapture 
when  this  divine  day  begins  to  dawn  u23on  the  soul ! 
It  warms  but  it  does  not  scorch,  it  reveals  and  beau- 
tifies without  dazzling,  it  is  both  cool  and  bright,  it  is 
softly  shaded  yet  ever  balmy ;  infinitely  more  than  all 
that  we  love  in  the  four  seasons  of  our  ^ar,  in  our 
gladdest  days  and  most  starry  nights,  is  in  this  one 
day,  —  the  day  of  God  kindling  in  man,  which  makes 
man  the  conscious  child  of  God  and  the  partaker  of 
His  unchanging  blessedness.  This  was  the  glorious 
inheritance  which  the  prophet  offered  to  his  people. 
Though  they  scorned  it,  forsaking  their  God,  yet  he 
knew  that  some  should  enter  ujDon  it,  if  not  sooner  at 
least  in  the  end  of  the  world.  Oh  what  a  time  for 
our  longing  and  bewildered  world,  when  that  day  of 
the  Lord,  which  is  neither  day  nor  night,  shall  come ! 
when  His  glory  shall  fill  the  earth  as  the  waters  fill 
the  seas ;  when  you  and  I  and  every  other  child  of 
God  shall  taste  that  blessedness  which  His  comins: 
into  the  soul  and  there  abiding  alone  can  give  !  This 
meeting  with  God,  to  dwell  in  eternal  communion 
with  Him,  is  the  only  point  at  which  our  storm-tossed 
humanity  can  be  at  rest.  This  great  truth,  which 
is  the  central  truth  of  all  real  religion,  gives  their 
wondrous  power  to  the  words  of  Christ,  which  are 


THE   IDEAL   LIFE.  205 

sweeter  to  us  the  oftener  we  repeat  them:  "Come 
unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and 
I  will  give  you  rest.  Take  my  yoke  upon  you  and 
learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  of  heart.  And 
ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls,  for  my  yoke  is  easy 
and  my  burden  is  light."  There  is  a  place  far  down 
in  the  depths  of  the  ocean  where  its  waters  are  for- 
ever still;  there  is  a  point  in  the  realms  of  aether 
above  the  air  where  no  wind  or  cloud  ever  comes ; 
there  are  favored  spots  on  the  earth  where  the  genial 
temperature  hardly  varies  from  age  to  age.  And  so 
there  is  a  blessed  centre  in  the  life  of  God  which 
He  brings  to  us,  where  the  soul  which  has  found 
that  centre  knows  no  changing  of  lights  or  shadows, 
but  rests  forever  in  the  unchanging  peace  of  God. 
Oh  that  we  might  find  that  holy  of  holies!  More 
than  has  entered  into  all  our  dreams  of  the  nature 
of  true  blessedness  is  gathered  there.  It  is  the  ideal 
climate,  where  the  joys  of  all  other  climes  blend  into 
one ;  it  is  the  pearly  depth  to  which  no  wave  ever 
goes  down  ;  it  is  the  ethereal  height  into  which  nei- 
ther \vind  nor  cloud  can  rise.  When  we  have  found 
our  God,  and  are  dwelling  in  Him,  His  own  immu- 
tableness  will  come  into  us.  There  will  be  no  more 
variations  in  our  religious  life,  ecstasies  yesterday  and 
despondency  to-day,  now  hoping  and  again  doubting, 
light  and  darkness  alternating  or  making  painful 
t\vilight  within  us ;  no  agitations  or  disturbances,  but 
the  serene  and  changeless  calm  of  our  God,  in  whom 
we  live  and  of  whose  nature  we  partake.  Let  the 
outward  conditions  of  our  lives  be  what  they  may, 
our  spirits,  which  are  ourselves,  are  all  the  same. 
The  day  of  our  prosperity  is  no  bright  and  deceitful 
day,  nor  is   the   night  of  calamity  a  season  of  real 


206  SERMONS. 

gloom.  Our  God  is  a  pillar  of  cloud  by  day,  and  of 
fire  by  night.  Nay,  more  than  that ;  He  is  something 
far  other  than  either  day  or  night ;  so  that  neither 
nor  both  of  these  can  rise  up  to  the  idea  of  the  shad- 
owed brightness  in  which  we  live.  It  is  one  day,  such 
as  God  forever  inhabits ;  a  divine  day  which  is  not 
day  nor  night ;  which  cools  and  softens  the  noontide 
sun,  and  makes  the  evening  time  light. 

You  need  not  tell  me  that  I  am  describing  an 
experience  which  no  mere  man  has  ever  yet  had,  for 
of  that  I  am  thoroughly  aware.  Nor  is  this  fact  any 
reason  why  we  should  be  cast  down  in  mind,  but  the 
rather  cause  for  rejoicing.  No  merely  human  soul 
has  yet  been  filled  with  the  life  of  God  while  in  the 
flesh.  The  experience  of  which  our  text  speaks  is 
before  and  above  us  all.  It  is  the  ideal  experience, 
not  yet  realized  any  more  than  all  beauty  has  been 
in  works  of  art.  The  Bible  has  much  to  say  about 
it,  holds  it  out  before  us  as  the  mark  toward  which 
we  are  to  press,  shows  us  that  the  best  of  men  like 
ourselves  have  come  short  of  it.  The  friends  of 
eTob  had  an  idea  of  this  perfect  peace,  and  could  up- 
braid Job  for  his  lack  of  it,  but  neither  he  nor  they 
had  entered  into  it ;  and  so  I  who  speak  and  you  who 
listen  may  be  alike  destitute  of  it,  even  while  it  fills 
us  with  a  yearning  desire.  Some  of  this  life  and 
peace  of  God  entered  into  the  soul  of  Abraham.  He 
was  so  nearly  one  with  God  that  God  talked  with  him 
face  to  face,  and  he  was  called  God's  friend ;  nor  did 
even  the  command  to  offer  his  son  Isaac  as  a  sacrifice 
seem  to  disturb  his  inner  calm ;  yet  an  earthly  current 
mingled  with  the  divine  in  his  soul :  he  did  things 
which  God  disapproved  ;  he  was  not  always  serene  and 
heavenly  in  mind ;  his  day  was  not  the  one  day  which 


THE   IDEAL   LIFE.  207 

is  neither  day  nor  night,  but  a  succession  of  lights  and 
shadows  much  like  those  through  which  we  are  pass- 
ing. The  same  failure  to  enter  fully  into  the  life  of 
God  is  to  be  seen  in  Moses,  in  Samuel,  in  David,  in 
Isaiah ;  in  all  the  Old  Testament  saints,  who  saw  the 
glory  in  which  God  dwelt,  but  could  not  come  unto  it. 
Perhaps  of  all  those  of  whom  we  read  in  our  Bibles 
who  sought  this  ideal  experience,  this  perfect  union 
with  God,  the  apostle  John  came  nearer  than  any 
other.  I  think  the  words  which  say  that  he  leaned  on 
his  Lord's  bosom,  and  was  the  disciple  whom  Jesui 
loved,  mean  more  than  we  sometimes  think.  There 
was  more  than  the  outward  and  physical  fact  of  re- 
chning  on  the  Master's  breast :  the  very  soul  of  John 
rested  on  Christ,  and  found  blessed  peace  in  Him. 
Jesus  loved  him  because  their  two  souls  flowed  to- 
gether, and  became  one  in  God.  Yet  this  John,  who 
came  so  near  the  ideal  experience,  and  who  seems  in 
his  gospel  and  epistles  to  speak  to  us  out  of  the  very 
heart  of  God,  was  not  perfect.  He  had  somewhat  of 
the  fierce  spirit  of  Elijah,  and  like  him  would  call 
down  fire  from  heaven  on  his  enemies.  Once  he,  too, 
like  the  other  disciples,  forsook  his  Master  and  fled. 
Clearly,  the  day  which  God  knows,  which  is  one  blessed 
day,  tempering  the  noontide  and  making  the  evening 
light,  was  not  his.  He  beheld  it  from  afar,  and  could 
speak  of  it  in  rapturous  words,  but  it  eluded  his  out- 
reaching  arms ;  so  that  without  us  he  could  not  be 
made  perfect.  Near  to  John,  or  on  the  same  level, 
stands  St.  Paul.  You  read  certain  passages  in  his 
writings,  and  you  say,  "  Surely  this  man  tasted  all 
that  the  indwelling  of  God  can  give  to  any  human 
soul."  Yes,  but  he  only  tasted  it,  he  did  not  live  in 
that  and  that  alone.     Though  he  was  caught  up  into 


208  SERMONS. 

the  third  heaven,  passing  through  an  experience  more 
blessed  than  he  coukl  tell ;  though  he  was  so  swallowed 
up  in  God  as  not  to  know  whether  he  was  in  or  out  of 
the  body ;  though  he  could  say  that  it  was  Christ  for 
him  to  live,  and  also  to  die,  so  that  whether  he  lived 
or  died  was  a  matter  of  indifference  to  him ;  though 
he  could  write  the  8th  of  Romans,  and  the  13th  and 
15tli  of  1st  Corinthians,  and  could  say  that  he  was 
ready  to  be  offered,  and  would  thank  God  if  made  a 
part  of  his  brethren's  sacrifice  of  faith,  —  yet  he  con- 
fessed that  he  was  compassed  with  infirmities.  It  is 
doubtful  if  he  ever  wholly  subdued  his  naturally  im- 
perious temper.  This  may  have  been  the  thorn  in  the 
flesh,  which  God  did  not  take  away  in  answer  to  his 
prayer,  the  messenger  of  Satan  buffeting  him  all 
through  his  life  lest  he  should  be  too  much  elated  by 
his  spiritual  attainments.  But  there  was  much  which 
he  did  not  attain,  much  which  he  did  not  apprehend, 
though  apprehended  for  it  in  Christ  Jesus.  He  was 
continually  forgetting  the  things  behind  him,  and 
looking  forth  unto  the  things  before,  knowing  even 
when  he  most  deeply  shared  in  the  fullness  of  God 
that  he  was  not  already  perfect.  Yes,  even  the  holiest 
of  God's  servants  found  their  religious  experience  a 
ladder  like  that  at  Bethel,  beginning  on  the  earth, 
but  reaching  away  upward  and  upward,  forever  up 
into  the  light  in  which  God  dwells.  Yet  how  God 
came  down  to  them  along  that  shining  ladder !  How 
He  took  hold  of  them,  and  blessed  and  inspired  them ! 
How  He  honored  them,  making  them  able  to  speak 
and  write  the  messages  of  saving  love  which  He  would 
send  to  His  sinning  children  here  below  !  The  expe- 
rience which  they  yearned  for  is  the  same  that  we 
yearn  for,  and  our  feet  are  on  the  lower  rounds  of  the 


THE  IDEAL   LIFE.  209 

ladder  along  which  they  have  climbed  away  upward. 
We  may  follow  them  as  they  followed  Christ,  and  the 
farther  we  go  the  more  shall  we  thank  God  that  we 
are  started  in  an  ever-lengthening  pathway.  The  road 
of  Christian  attainment  has  for  us  a  beginning,  but  it 
has  no  end.  "  Long  enough  have  ye  compassed  this 
mountain ;  hasten  on,  the  land  of  promise  is  still  before 
you,"  is  the  trumpet  call  ever  arousing  us  to  our  life 
of  love  and  duty.  Let  us  bless  God  for  this.  Our 
joy  consists  not  in  what  we  have  already  gained,  but 
in  the  consciousness  that  we  are  all  the  time  advan- 
cing. We  sometimes  wonder  what  we  shall  do  in  the 
long  eternity  before  us.  Dear  friends,  nothing  short 
of  an  eternity  can  satisfy  the  most  sacred  yearning  of 
our  souls.  We  yearn  for  the  infinite  peace  of  God, 
but  we  have  not  gained  it,  nor  shall  we  ever  gain  it ; 
but  we  shall  draw  nearer  and  nearer  to  it,  and  the 
consciousness  of  this  progress,  of  this  closer  and  fuller 
oneness  of  life  with  God,  will  throughout  the  eternal 
ages  be  the  secret  of  all  our  blessedness  and  joy.  We 
shall  forever  be  getting  farther  into  the  bright  coun- 
try, the  sources  of  whose  rivers  of  pleasure  we  can 
never  reach,  hearing  sweeter  and  louder  strains  of  the 
anthems  which  roll  unceasingly,  taking  in  more  and 
more  of  that  divine  day  which  is  a  light  at  evening 
time  and  a  shadow  at  the  scorching  noon.  One  who 
was  known  and  loved  on  earth,  our  blessed  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  lived  out  before  men  the  life  of 
perfect  union  with  the  Father.  All  the  fullness  of 
the  Godhead  dwelt  in  Him.  But  He  stands  alone  and 
unapproachable.  Only  He,  of  all  that  have  dwelt  in 
the  flesh,  has  had  that  religious  experience  which  is  to 
us  a  far-off  ideal.  He  is  in  the  Father  and  the  Father 
is  in  Him.     The  one  day,  neither  day  nor  night,  which 


210  SERMONS. 

God  knows,  is  also  wholly  known  to  Christ.  No  trou- 
ble or  suffering  ever  took  away  His  peace,  but  He 
dwelt  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father  even  while  His  life- 
blood  flowed  down  the  cross.  He  had  meat  to  eat 
which  the  world  knew  not  of.  In  His  deepest  agony 
and  humiliation  He  was  infinitely  blessed.  And  He, 
dear  fj-iends,  our  one  witness  that  the  words  of  our 
text  may  come  true,  was  bone  of  our  bone  and  flesh  of 
our  flesh.  He  makes  us  members  of  His  own  body. 
He  declares  that  where  He  is  there  shall  we  be  also. 
We  shall,  through  infinite  and  adorable  riches  of  free 
grace  in  Him,  attain  unto  the  measure  of  the  stature 
of  the  fullness  of  Christ.  No  matter  who  you  are, 
or  what  you  are ;  the  most  worldly  and  hardened,  the 
poorest,  the  weakest,  the  abandoned,  the  corrupted 
and  lost,  oh,  come  to  this  Saviour  just  as  you  are,  and 
call  Him  your  Lord  and  God,  and  begin  to  keep  His 
words !  In  Him  there  shall  not  fail  you  anything  of 
aU  that  has  been  spoken  by  holy  men  of  old.  You 
are  God's  child.  His  nature  dwells  in  you,  making  it 
possible  that  you  should  enter  into  communion  with 
Him.  Let  that  communion  now  begin,  —  the  com- 
munion which  may  cause  you  some  struggles  with  a 
worldly  heart,  but  which  shall  bring  more  and  more 
of  the  peace  of  God  into  you,  till  you  shall  sink  into 
Him  as  the  river  sinks  into  the  sea. 


SEEING  THE   KING   IN   THE    FAR-OFF   LAND. 

Thine  eyes  shall  see  the  King  in  His  beauty  ;  they  shall  behold  the 
land  that  is  very  far  off.  —  IsA.  xxxiii.  17. 

This  is  one  of  a  class  of  passages  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment which  have  been  taken  up  into  Christian  expe- 
rience, and  made  to  point  forward,  in  their  meaning 
and  application,  to  the  most  glorious  hopes  and  prom- 
ises of  the  gospel.  Whatever  blessed  state  of  things 
in  the  land  of  Israel  Isaiah  may  have  referred  to,  we 
refer  his  words,  almost  instinctively,  to  the  condition 
and  the  inheritance  of  the  righteous  in  heaven.  "  The 
King  in  His  beauty,"  whom  our  eyes  shall  see,  is  the 
glorified  and  reigning  Christ,  enthroned  in  the  midst 
of  the  four  beasts  and  the  f our-and-twenty  elders  ;  a 
rainbow  round  about  His  head,  crowned  with  many 
crowns.  His  raiment  white  and  glistering.  His  coun- 
tenance as  the  sun  shining  in  His  strength ;  an  innu- 
merable company  worshiping  before  Him,  and  ascrib- 
ing unto  Him,  with  a  voice  which  is  as  the  voice  of 
many  waters,  glory  and  honor  and  dominion  and 
power  and  blessing.  And  "  the  land  that  is  very  far 
off,"  which  every  struggling  and  toiling  believer  shall 
behold,  is,  to  our  quickened  faith,  the  better  country, 
even  the  heavenly ;  the  land  where  there  shall  be  no 
more  sorrow  nor  crying,  neither  shall  there  be  any 
more  pain  ;  where  are  the  tree  of  life,  and  the  river 
of  water  of  life ;  the  blessed  abode  of  holiness,  joy, 
and  peace,  in  the  immediate  presence  and  the  love  of 


212  SERMONS. 

God.  What  we  sometimes  call  "  the  beatific  vision," 
the  radiant  and  enrapturing  scene  which  shall  burst 
upon  us  when  we  are  clothed  upon  with  our  house 
from  heaven,  is,  to  our  yearning  souls,  the  inner  mean- 
ing of  the  words  which  say,  "  Thine  eyes  shall  see  the 
King  in  His  beauty ;  they  shall  behold  the  land  that 
is  very  far  off." 

There  is  one  revelation  of  Christ  and  His  heavenly 
glory  to  us,  which  takes  place  at  the  beginning  of  our 
discipleship  under  Him.  Of  this  we  have  a  striking 
instance  in  the  conversion  of  St.  Paul.  He  called  it 
"  the  heavenly  vision,"  and  gloried  in  the  fact  that  he 
was  not  disobedient  unto  it,  while  he  showed  to  king 
Agrippa  how  great  things  God  had  done  for  him. 
That  vision,  in  one  form  or  another,  and  with  greater 
or  less  power,  is  vouchsafed  to  every  soul  in  the  hour 
of  repentance,  when,  convicted  of  its  sin,  it  believes 
on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

Besides  this  manifestation  of  the  exalted  Lamb 
of  God,  which  breaks  upon  us  at  the  outset  of  the 
new  life,  sometimes  overwhelming  us  with  terror  and 
despair,  is  that  constant  revelation  of  His  presence 
which  we  have  with  us  all  through  our  pilgrimage. 
We  live,  day  by  day,  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible. 
Our  conversation  is  in  heaven.  We  walk  by  faith, 
and  not  by  sight.  The  Father  and  Son  come  unto  us 
and  make  their  abode  with  us.  We  understand  all 
the  time,  inwardly  and  secretly,  yet  most  blessedly, 
what  Christ  meant  when  He  said,  "  Lo,  I  am  with  you 
alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  world." 

We  therefore  see  the  King  in  His  beauty,  and  the 
far-off  land  is  disclosed  to  us  in  the  hour  of  our  con- 
version ;  and  that  radiant  form  and  country  attend  us 
in  overhanging  vision  all  through  our  earthly  jour- 


SEEING    THE  KING.  213 

ney ;  and  at  tlie  end  of  that  journey  we  are  brought 
into  an  enjoyment  of  Christ's  presence  and  heavenly 
glories,  so  full  and  transporting  that  all  the  past  is 
hardly  remembered.  The  awfulness  of  the  fii*st  hour 
of  deep  repentance  is  succeeded  by  the  sweet  and 
peaceful  trust  of  Christian  discipleship ;  and  this,  like 
some  umbrageous  avenue  leading  away  through  dis- 
tant vistas  till  it  is  lost  in  the  midst  of  half -discerned 
fountains  and  mansions  and  leafy  bowers,  reminds  us 
that  the  real  blessedness  and  riches  and  glory  of  the 
Christian  state  are  still  unseen,  —  an  inheritance  not 
yet  entered  upon,  and  for  which  our  outreaching  hearts 
daily  pray  and  yearn.  We  are  not  satisfied,  as  we  one 
day  shall  be.  We  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteous- 
ness, but  we  shall  be  filled.  We  shall  be  satisfied. 
The  vision  of  the  future,  when  we  see  as  we  are  seen, 
shall  eclipse  the  past  with  its  infinite  splendors.  There 
is  first  the  joy  that  has  come  down  to  us,  and  secondly 
the  joy  that  goes  with  us  through  our  earthly  dis- 
cipline ;  but,  withdrawing  your  minds  from  these,  I 
wish  to  point  you,  for  a  little,  to  that  other  joy,  —  the 
last,  greatest,  and  best  of  all,  —  of  which  only  the 
"  trailing  splendors "  now  fall  about  us,  and  which 
beckons  us  on  to  that  full  possession  of  it  into  which 
we  shall  at  length  enter.  What  words  could  possibly 
describe  it  to  us  more  fitly,  dear  friends,  than  those  of 
the  prophet,  in  which  he  says  to  you,  to  me,  to  every 
penitent  believer,  to  each  mourning  or  persecuted  or 
tried  and  tempted  child  of  God,  ''  Thine  eyes  shall  see 
the  King  in  His  beauty ;  they  shall  behold  the  land 
that  is  very  far  off  "  ? 

This  delightful  land  of  heaven,  where  Christ  shall 
be  revealed  in  beauty  to  the  beholding  soul,  is  called  a 
far-off  land,  (1)  not  to  teach  us  that  we  are  separated 


214  SERMONS. 

from  it  by  any  great  distance  of  space  or  time.  Such 
teaching*  woukl  be  contrary  to  all  our  knowledge  of 
this  present  life.  It  is  a  short  life,  and  a  very  uncer- 
tain life.  In  this  sense  of  distance,  heaven  cannot  be 
said  to  be  a  far-off  land  to  any  believer.  It  may  be 
very  near ;  he  may  enter  into  it  to-morrow,  or  even 
sooner.  Christ  said  to  the  penitent  thief,  in  the  mo- 
ment of  his  first  submission,  "  This  day  shalt  thou  be 
with  me  in  Paradise."  Whenever  there  is  but  a  step 
between  the  true  Christian  and  death,  there  is  but  a 
stej)  between  him  and  the  bright  country  whose  glori- 
ous King  he  shall  see  as  soon  as  he  enters  it.  The 
golden  city  may  be  nearer  to  us  than  we  think,  nor  do 
we  know  but  that  even  in  this  passing  hour  the  time 
of  our  departure*  may  come.  It  is  as  true  of  believers 
as  of  unbelievers,  that  their  days  are  as  a  shadow,  and 
that  they  spend  their  years  as  a  tale  that  is  told.  Nor 
is  the  full  vision  of  Christ  said  to  be  in  a  far-off  land 
(2)  because  the  work  of  sanctification  in  us  must  ne- 
cessarily be  long  and  tedious.  If  this  were  so,  there 
must  needs  be  all  the  time  very  many  imperfect  saints 
in  heaven.  The  number  of  believers  who  live  many 
years  here  in  the  flesh,  subject  to  the  refining  influ- 
ences of  divine  grace  after  they  have  believed,  is  com- 
paratively few.  In  the  case  of  the  vast  majority,  the 
purifying  work  of  the  Spirit  is  far  from  complete  in 
them  when  they  go  hence  to  be  here  no  more.  We 
must  assume,  therefore,  that  a  wonderful  change  takes 
place  in  them  at  death,  by  which  they  are  suddenly 
brought  into  a  perfectly  holy  state ;  else  how  can  it  be 
true  of  heaven  that  "  there  shall  in  no  wise  enter  into 
it  anything  that  defileth,  or  whatsoever  worketh  abom- 
ination or  loveth  a  lie  "  ?  And  if  this  transformation 
takes  place  at  death  in  the  case  of  all,  many  of  whom 


SEEING    THE  KING.  215 

are  as  yet  but  babes  in  Christ,  why  may  we  not  believe 
that  it  is  possible  even  before  death,  to  those  whose 
faith  is  sufficient  ?  Christian  perfection  is  not  some- 
thing which  we  must  necessarily  travel  towards  through 
long  years  of  discipline ;  and  yet  this  view,  I  suspect, 
accords  better  than  the  other  with  what  the  great  mass 
of  believers  experience.  Some  of  us  may  have  been 
followers  of  Christ  for  half  a  century ;  and  still  we 
are  far  off,  —  our  infirmities  and  failures  in  duty  make 
us  look  forward  to  complete  holiness  as  a  distant  land. 
Not  here,  but  somewhere  in  the  coming  eternit}^  we 
shall  be  like  our  King,  and  see  Him  in  His  beauty,  is 
the  wdiisper  of  our  honest  hearts.  We  may  be  already 
complete  in  Him,  but  not  in  ourselves  ;  justified,  but 
not  sanctified  ;  freed  from  the  condemning  power  of 
sin,  but  not  yet  without  sin.  The  wonderful  charm 
of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  for  all  Christian  hearts 
proves  that  we  naturally  think  of  our  perfection  and 
blessedness  as  far-off  attainments.  The  way  from  the 
City  of  Destruction  to  the  Celestial  City  is  a  long  and 
toilsome  way,  beset  with  dangers,  full  of  fears  and 
hopes  and  errors  and  deliv^erances.  Even  if  it  need 
not  be  so,  yet  so  it  almost  always  is.  The  necessity  is 
not  in  God,  nor  in  the  nature  of  things,  but  in  our- 
selves. The  life  of  Christ,  into  whom  we  are  grafted, 
does  not  all  at  once  flow  into  us  in  this  world,  but  only 
gi-adually,  till  at  length  we  are  full  of  the  fruits  of  the 
Spirit. 

These  words  of  the  prophet  seem  to  me  to  suggest, 
most  strikingly,  (1)  The  vast  moral  contrast  between 
earth  and  heaven ;  (2)  the  wide  difference  between 
the  earthly  and  the  heavenly  condition  of  Christ ;  (3) 
the  mighty  change  which  we  must  undergo,  before  we 
can  stand  before  Him,  and  see  Him  as  He  is. 


216  SERMONS. 

(1)  The  corruptions  in  the  earth  are  so  many  and 
great,  and  we  are  so  unable  to  see  the  steady  growth 
of  Christ's  kingdom,  that  it  is  hard  for  us  to  believe 
in  an  earthly  paradise.  We  at  times  seriously  doubt 
whether  the  world  is  to  be  purified  by  its  own  gradual 
improvement,  till  it  becomes  a  fit  abode  for  Christ,  to 
which  He  may  return  and  dwell  in  glory  among  His 
people.  In  such  moods  of  mind  we  turn  rather  to  the 
words  which  declare  that  the  earth  and  the  works 
which  are  therein  shall  be  destroyed,  that  it  shall  pass 
away  with  a  great  noise,  that  the  elements  which  com- 
pose it  shall  melt  and  be  dissipated  by  the  fervent 
heat.  Our  heaven  is  not  this  planet  on  which  we  now 
are,  but  a  far-off  land ;  it  is  beyond  the  moon  and  the 
stars ;  it  is  a  city  builded  higher  than  the  clouds  ;  it  is 
a  peaceful  region,  prepared  of  God  at  the  remote  cen- 
tre of  His  universe,  into  which  the  confused  noise  of 
mortal  strife  cannot  reach  ;  where  the  fever  and  fret 
of  the  selfish  life  are  buried  with  the  forgotten  past ; 
within  whose  veil  the  shadows  of  lust,  and  wicked 
scandal,  and  human  shame  never  fall.  It  is  not  here, 
but  there  ;  not  in  this  land  where  we  now  dwell,  but 
in  the  land  that  is  very  far  off,  that  this  sweet  rest 
and  experience  of  a  pure  and  blessed  life  shall  begin. 
Not  where  cruel  passions  rage,  but  where  all  is  peace, 
we  shall  see  our  glorious  King. 

(2)  These  words  of  Isaiah  paint  to  us  the  present 
exaltation  of  Christ  in  contrast  with  His  lowly  lot 
among  men.  Call  Him  up  before  your  minds  as  He 
was :  His  birth  in  the  manger ;  His  parents  hiding  Him 
from  Herod ;  dwelling,  till  He  was  thirty  years  old,  in 
the  little  hill-town  of  Nazareth  ;  a  carpenter,  and  the 
son  of  a  carpenter  ;  without  wealth  or  powerful  earthly 
friends  ;  despised  and  rejected  by  his  own  countrymen ; 


SEEING    THE  KING.  217 

obliged  to  find  His  friends  among  publicans  and  out- 
casts ;  choosing  for  His  disciples  tlie  humble  fishermen 
of  Galilee  ;  going  about  from  city  to  city  ;  subsisting 
on  the  fruits  which  grew  by  the  wayside  and  in  the 
fields ;  sleeping  upon  the  mountains  and  in  the  open 
air  ;  often  without  a  place  where  to  lay  His  head  ;  des- 
titute of  a  change  of  raiment ;  betrayed,  by  one  whom 
He  had  honored,  to  His  savage-hearted  foes ;  treated  as 
the  worst  and  meanest  of  human  criminals,  in  his  ar- 
rest, trial,  and  execution  ;  forsaken  of  His  friends,  and 
left  helpless  to  the  rage  of  the  powers  of  darkness,  in 
His  extremity.  But  now  that  same  Jesus,  who  is  both 
Lord  and  Christ,  is  exalted  at  the  right  hand  of  God. 
He  is  a  prince  and  a  Saviour.  All  the  angels  of  God 
worship  Him.  His  garments  are  light  and  majesty, 
His  form  and  countenance  glorious  ;  His  word,  going 
out  of  his  mouth,  is  like  a  two-edged  sword,  and  He 
holds  the  stars  in  His  right  hand.  Now  this  glorious 
contrast,  this  transfiguration  of  the  earthly  lot  of 
Christ  into  His  heavenly  condition,  is  represented  to 
us  under  the  figure  of  the  land  that  is  very  far  off; 
under  the  figure  of  the  King  in  His  beauty,  over 
against  the  Galilean  peasant  who  bore  suffering  and 
shame  and  the  bitter  cross.  We  think  of  it  as  a  dis- 
tant region  in  which  the  man  of  sorrows  at  length 
rejoices ;  it  cannot  be  here,  but  far  away,  that  the 
crown  of  thorns  has  blossomed  into  beauty ;  the  suf- 
fering Christ  came  down  so  low  to  us,  and  the  reigning 
Christ  has  gone  up  so  high,  above  all  principalities 
and  powers  in  heavenly  places,  that  no  length  of  time 
is  too  great,  no  distance  in  space  too  vast,  to  repre- 
sent the  wonderful  and  glorious  change  which  He  has 
undergone. 

(3)  The   figure   of   speech   used   by  the   prophet, 


218  SERMONS. 

reminds  us  also  of  the  mighty  inward  and  moral 
change  which  we  all  must  experience  in  order  that 
we  may  be  ready  for  the  beatific  vision.  We  could 
not  endure  the  sight  of  Christ  amid  His  heavenly  glo- 
ries, while  in  our  evil  and  sinful  state.  His  presence 
would  consume  us,  as  hay,  wood,  and  stubble  are  con- 
sumed by  the  fire.  Moses  could  not  endure  the  sight 
of  God ;  Abraham  could  not ;  again  and  again  a  flame 
came  out  from  the  Lord,  and  slew  those  who  ap- 
proached rashly  before  Him ;  the  three  favorite  dis- 
ciples fell  on  their  faces  and  were  sore  afraid,  when 
Christ  was  transfigured  before  them  in  the  mount. 
John  in  Patmos  had  a  vision  of  Christ ;  yet  he  could 
not  bear  the  glory,  and  says  that  he  fell  down  as  one 
dead  at  his  Lord's  feet.  Now  if  this  moral  contrast 
was  so  great  and  overwhelming  in  his  case,  who  was 
an  apostle,  acting  and  speaking  under  the  immediate 
guidance  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  what  must  it  be  in  our 
case !  We  are  bundles  of  imperfections.  We  have 
but  just  begun  to  submit  ourselves  to  the  tuition  of 
Christ,  or  are  yet  only  considering  whether  or  not  we 
will  be  His  disciples.  But  our  fretful  and  irascible 
spirit  must  be  replaced  by  His  resigned  and  peaceful 
spirit.  Our  selfishness  must  be  changed  to  love.  In- 
stead of  doubts  and  suspicions,  we  must  be  full  of 
a  trustful  mind.  Murmurings  must  give  way  to  con- 
tentment in  our  hearts,  censoriousness  to  charity,  cov- 
etousness  to  benevolence,  pride  to  lowliness,  fear  of 
the  world  to  brave  and  open  confession  of  our  Re- 
deemer. Such  is  the  transformation  which  we  must 
undergo,  and  all  the  fruits  of  the  spirit  must  be  in 
us  and  abound,  in  order  that  there  may  be  a  real 
and  joyous  union  of  our  souls  to  God.  It  is  a  mighty 
transformation,  as  we  see ;    but  it  shall  take  place, 


SEEING    THE  KING.  219 

by  those  lielps  which  God  has  provided,  though  with 
man  it  were  impossible.  When  we  think  of  what  we 
are,  and  of  what  we  are  to  be  when  we  stand  before 
Christ,  there  is  a  wonderfid  expressiveness  to  us  in 
the  words  which  speak  of  Him  as  dwelling  in  the  land 
that  is  very  far  off.  We  must  traverse  continents  of 
gracious  discipline,  we  must  climb  over  high  moun- 
tains of  earthliness  and  sin,  we  must  sail  across  wide 
oceans  of  Christian  attainment,  before  we  enter  into 
that  radiant  country,  and  look  on  the  face  of  its 
beautifid  King.  His  ways  are  above  our  ways,  and 
His  thoughts  higher  than  our  thoughts  ;  even  as  the 
heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth.  All  our  hope,  poor 
and  sinful  creatures  that  we  are,  of  one  day  being  like 
Him,  and  seeing  Him  as  He  is,  is  in  the  power  of  His 
own  all-accomplishing  love.  He  can  bring  a  clean 
thing  out  of  the  unclean.  He  can  change  the  image 
of  the  earthly  into  the  image  of  the  heavenly.  He  has 
prayed  the  Father  for  us,  that  we  might  be  with  Him, 
and  behold  Him  in  His  glory.  That  prayer  is  sure  to 
be  answered :  to  be  effectual  in  the  case  of  each  fee- 
blest and  lowest  soul,  which  yearns  to  see  the  King  in 
the  far-off  land.  Looking  upon  His  face  even  now, 
in  the  exercise  of  that  faith  which  unites  to  Him,  we 
are  daily  transfigured  into  His  glorious  image  by  the 
inworking  of  the  Spirit  of  God.  Our  transgressions 
are  removed  from  us  as  far  as  the  east  J^  from  the 
west ;  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  mth  which  we  are 
clothed  and  shod,  does  not  wax  old  in  this  wilderness. 
Each  day's  advance  in  our  journey  but  marks  the  prog- 
ress of  the  spiritual  change  whereby  Christ,  w^ho  has 
been  formed  within  us,  is  subduing  all  things  unto 
Himself,  and  bringing  each  deepest  and  most  secret 
thought  of  our  hearts  into  sweet  harmony  and  loving 
obedience  under  Him. 


220  SERMONS. 

Now,  it  is  in  view  of  this  bright  and  blessed  future 
that  I  wish  to  encourage  every  believer  in  Christ,  and 
to  exhort  every  soul  to  come  after  Him.  (1)  It  may 
be  that  some  here,  after  long  years  of  discipleship, 
have  been  thrown  into  doubt  respecting  the  glory  yet 
to  be  revealed.  Their  spiritual  life,  sympathizing 
with  that  of  the  flesh,  burns  low  amid  the  infirmities 
which  gather  upon  them  with  age.  The  vision  of 
Christ  is  faint  and  dim  to  them,  does  not  fill  them 
with  raptures  as  it  once  did.  I  do  not  deny  that 
there  has  been  this  waning  of  joy  and  hope  in  their 
Christian  experience.  I  grant  the  sincerity  of  their 
feeling  that  the  land  in  wiiich  Christ  dwells  in  beauty 
is  very  far  off.  But,  dear  friends,  the  promises  of 
God  are  sure.  He  can  change  these  feeble  and  de- 
caying bodies  into  the  likeness  of  his  own  most  glori- 
ous body.  He  can  replace  these  failing  fleshly  senses 
with  those  strong  spiritual  perceptions  which  are  fully 
able  to  apprehend  the  splendors  of  his  person.  His 
assurance  is  positive  and  emphatic.  "  Thine  eyes 
shall  see  the  King  in  his  beauty ;  they  shall  behold 
the  land  that  is  very  far  off."  No  decay  of  mortal 
powers,  no  weight  of  years,  sorrows,  or  sicknesses  can 
keep  you  out  of  the  bright  inheritance.  Wherefore 
comfort  one  another  with  these  words.  Bear  with 
holy  patience  the  lot  which  is  upon  you,  though  the 
silver  cord  be  loosed,  and  the  golden  bowl  broken. 
Your  want  of  a  vivid  sense  of  the  nearness  and  love 
of  Christ  is  but  that  drowsiness  which  steals  upon  the 
soul,  giving  you  gentle  warning  of  the  sleep  which  he 
giveth  his  beloved,  —  not  the  sleej)  which  knows  no 
waking,  as  we  sometimes  say,  but  out  of  which  you 
shall  wake  to  joys  unspeakable,  in  the  dawn  of  the 
everlasting   morning.     (2)  Let  the  prospect   of   the. 


SEEING    THE   KING.  221 

beatific  vision  also  cheer  those  who  are  bearins:  the 
heat  and  burden  of  the  day  in  Christ's  vineyard. 
You  have  great  trials  of  your  fortitude  and  patience. 
You  are  often  at  your  wit's  end.  It  seems  to  you 
that  you  labor  in  vain,  and  spend  your  strength  for 
naught.  The  more  you  love,  the  less  you  are  loved ; 
and  your  good  is  evil  spoken  of.  Oftentimes  your 
own  hearts  betray  you,  and  before  you  are  aware 
you  are  overtaken  in  a  fault.  Thus  your  life  seems 
to  be  at  cross-purposes  with  itself,  and  you  have  no 
comforting  assurance  that  you  are  helping  forward 
the  kingdom  of  Christ,  either  Tvdthin  or  around  you. 
But,  dear  brethren,  your  reward  is  certain.  Your 
efforts  to  bring  others  to  Christ,  though  seemingly 
futile,  are  precious  to  God.  Your  reward  is  laid  up 
for  you.  "  Thine  eyes  shall  see  the  King  in  his 
beauty,"  is  the  blessed  word  of  God  to  you,  though 
all  the  world  beside  shoidd  refuse  to  go  mth  you  to 
the  far-off  land,  and  behold  Him.  "If  in  this  life 
only  we  had  hope,"  said  Saint  Paul,  "  we  were  of  all 
men  most  miserable."  But  you  are  not  shut  up,  as 
he  was  not,  to  this  disturbed  and  uncertain  life.  You 
have  hope  in  the  life  which  is  beyond  life,  and  that 
hope  is  full  of  immortality.  Let  it  be  an  anchor  to 
your  soul.  Let  it  keep  you  from  fainting,  or  turning 
aside,  or  faltering,  or  being  at  all  discouraged.  It 
entereth  into  that  which  is  within  the  veil.  There 
Christ  sitteth  for  you,  not  ignorant  of  your  labor  of 
love,  —  knowing,  as  no  one  else  knoweth,  how  you 
have  borne,  and  have  had  patience,  and  have  labored 
and  not  fainted.  You  shall  enter  that  radiant  land, 
and  look  on  its  beautiful  King;  and  throughout  all 
the  way  to  it  you  may  sing  to  yourseK  those  grand 
words  of  the  hymn  — 


222  SERMONS. 

' '  And,  oh !  from  that  bright  throne 
I  shall  look  back,  and  see, 
The  path  I  went,  and  that  alone, 
Was  the  right  path  for  me. ' ' 

(3)  And  if  there  be  any  here,  as  there  doubtless  are 
some,  who  stand  on  the  threshold  of  the  kingdom,  just 
entering  it,  or  considering  whether  to  enter,  let  me 
exhort  you,  dear  friends,  to  press  forward.  Be  ear- 
nest, determined,  persevering,  even  violent,  in  your 
efforts ;  for  you  know  that  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
suffer eth  violence,  and  the  violent  take  it  by  force. 
Let  no  bands  of  armed  men,  thronging  the  doorway 
and  brandishing  their  weapons,  keep  you  from  press- 
ing into  the  beautiful  palace,  —  the  Church  of  Christ, 
whence  the  voice  of  singing,  from  them  that  are 
clothed  in  white,  issues  forth  to  you.  The  vision  of 
warning,  such  as  came  to  Saul  of  Tarsus,  has  already 
visited  you.  Be  not  disobedient  to  that ;  and  so  this, 
—  the  vision  of  the  King  in  his  beauty,  in  the  far-off 
land,  shall  bless  your  eyes  in  the  day  when  you  awake 
in  Christ's  likeness.  You  see  it  not  now,  but  you 
have  an  irrepressible  yearning  for  it;  and  that  yearn- 
ing should  be  to  you  the  proof  that  it  may  be  yours, 
for  God  has  put  no  want  in  the  soul  which  He  has  not 
provided  the  means  of  gratifying.  For  this  reason, 
first  of  all,  you  should  believe  in  that  vision  ;  and  you 
should  believe  in  it  because  God  has  promised  it  to 
all  his  faithful  children,  and  because  so  many  believ- 
ers, extending  in  long  succession  through  the  history 
of  the  Church,  have  testified  to  the  sweet  foretastes  of 
it  which  have  visited  them  in  their  pilgrimage.  They 
have  known  it  in  part ;  they  have  seen  it  through  a 
glass  darkly,  though  not  face  to  face.  The  glass  of 
faith  has  trembled   in   their  hands  while  they  have 


SEEING    THE  KING.  223 

stood  on  the  Delectable  Mountains ;  yet  have  they 
beheld  with  their  eyes,  even  they  and  not  another,  the 
glittering  domes,  and  lofty  towers,  and  shining  forms, 
in  the  city  which  lieth  four-square,  —  the  city  of  love, 
whose  length  and  breadth  and  height  are  equal.  That 
bright  land,  which  is  the  abode  of  our  exalted  King, 
is  too  far  off  to  be  seen  from  the  City  of  Destruction, 
from  the  Slough  of  Despond,  from  the  Wicket  Gate. 
But  we  give  you  the  divine  promises,  our  own  experi- 
ence, and  the  deep  longing  in  your  soul,  as  proof  that 
it  is  a  reality  ;  it  hath  foundations ;  properly  speaking, 
it  is  the  only  country,  for  it  is  spiritual  and  eter- 
nal, and  shall  flourish  in  unchanging  freshness  when 
the  place  of  our  mortal  abode  has  vanished  away. 
Enter  in  through  the  gate,  fearless  of  any  arrows 
which  the  enemy  of  souls  may  shoot  at  you  from  be- 
hind the  wall.  Your  knocking  for  admittance  will  be 
heard ;  and  a  hand,  in  which  is  the  print  of  a  nail, 
shall  be  reached  forth  to  pull  you  in.  Christ  will 
offer  to  you  His  own  easy  yoke.  His  own  light  burden. 
He  will  teach  you ;  and,  in  the  meek  and  lowly  heart 
which  you  get  from  Him,  you  shall  even  now  begin  to 
find  rest  to  your  soul.  But  it  is  only  the  spring,  the 
rivulet,  the  stream  flowing  on  within  its  banks,  at 
first.  The  ocean  is  far  away.  You  shall  have  fore- 
gleams  of  the  King  in  His  beauty  here,  but  there  your 
eyes  shall  see  Him.  More  love,  more  faith,  more  obe- 
dience, shall  come  into  your  soul ;  and  these,  daily 
strengthening  your  si3iritual  faculties,  shall  enable 
you  more  and  more  to  lay  hold  of  the  glory  of  God 
set  before  you.  Not  in  utter  loneliness,  nor  in  grow- 
ing or  undiminishing  darkness,  shall  you  go  forward. 
The  consciousness  that  you  are  not  alone,  but  God  is 
with  you,  shall  little  by  little  spring  up  in  you.     The 


224  SERMONS. 

shadows  shall  grow  less  as  you  advance,  till  they 
disai3pear,  one  after  another,  in  the  light  which  is 
brighter  than  the  sun  at  noonday.  You  shall  go  out 
of  the  fleshly  life  into  the  spiritual  life,  out  of  worldly- 
mindedness  into  heavenly-mindedness,  out  of  weakness 
into  strength,  out  of  penitence  into  joy  in  the  Lord. 
Your  pilgrimage  may  be  long  and  tortuous,  or  it  may 
be  short  and  straightforward ;  but  it  is  sure  to  end  in 
eternal  peace.  You  shall  see  the  King  in  His  beauty, 
for  that  which  makes  Him  beautiful  has  become  the 
indwelling  life  and  the  very  substance  of  your  own 
soul ;  your  eyes  shall  behold  the  land,  that  it  is  very 
far  off,  for  you  are  already  a  citizen  of  that  country, 
born  into  it  by  the  new  and  celestial  birth ;  and  you 
are  traveling  toward  it,  with  a  blessed  homesickness 
in  your  heart,  all  the  days  that  you  are  a  stranger  and 
pilgrim  here. 


CHRISTIAN   CHARACTER  ITS  OWN 
VINDICATION. 

Wisdom  is  justified  of  her  children.  —  Matt.  xi.  19. 

It  is  remarkable  how  little  pains  Christ  took  to  jus- 
tify or  explain  His  own  conduct.  He  speaks,  in  this 
eleventh  chapter  of  Matthew,  of  His  manner  of  life 
as  contrasted  with  that  of  John  the  Baptist.  John's 
habits  were  ascetic,  in  sympathy  with  the  old  dispen- 
sation of  law ;  Christ  entered  freely  into  society  with 
men,  as  became  the  joyous  spirit  of  the  gospel.  There 
were  some  who  found  fault  with  the  sternness  of  John, 
and  others  who  complained  of  the  social  ways  of 
Christ.  Christ  states  the  fact,  but  He  does  not  give 
any  reason  for  it.  He  simply  says,  "  Wisdom  is  jus- 
tified of  her  children."  He  and  John  both,  that  is, 
were  serving  the  same  essential  cause ;  they  were 
working  out  the  one  great  plan  of  redemption.  They 
understood  each  other,  and  were  fundamentally  in 
accord  notwithstanding  outward  differences.  Nor  was 
this  all ;  for  any  other  persons,  serving  the  same 
divine  cause,  would  recognize  them  both  as  co-workers, 
and  rejoice  in  them.  The  fact,  therefore,  that  one 
party  disliked  John,  and  another  party  disliked  Christ, 
proved  that  neither  of  these  parties  was  in  hearty 
sympathy  with  the  kingdom  of  God.  If  they  had 
been  the  children  of  wisdom,  they  would  have  recog- 
nized wisdom  through  any  drapery  of  personal  pecu- 
liarities or  habits,  such  as  made  Christ  and  John  to 


226  SERMONS. 

differ.  It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  all  Christians  will 
be  exact  copies  of  their  Master  in  each  outward  par- 
ticular ;  much  less  that  they  will  agree  among  them- 
selves always  in  regard  to  what  may  be  proper  or  im- 
proper in  the  manifold  relations  of  life.  Liberty  is 
allowed  them  in  these  minor  matters.  Nor  need  they 
be  all  the  time  explaining  and  defending  their  habits. 
If  they  have  the  spirit  of  Christ,  they  will  dwell  to- 
gether in  love,  and  labor  together  for  the  upbuilding 
of  His  kingdom,  not  worried  by  their  differences,  but 
the  rather  rejoicing  in  them.  It  is  not  necessary  that 
they  should  come  into  collision.  They  need  spend  no 
time  justifying  themselves  to  one  another.  Each  one 
of  them  sees  that  it  is  natural  temperament,  parent- 
age, education,  surroundings,  which  make  them  unlike. 
They  severally  grant  the  measure  of  liberty  which 
they  take.  It  is  their  common  devotion  to  the  grand 
central  interest  which  makes  them  one.  This  devotion 
marks  them  all  out  as  the  children  of  wisdom ;  and 
by  virtue  of  that  wisdom  they  stand  justified  to  each 
other,  no  more  likely  to  fall  into  angry  disputes  than 
are  the  flowers  of  the  field  to  quarrel  because  they  do 
not  all  happen  to  be  of  the  same  color  and  fragrance. 
Christians  conscientiously  serving  God  are  sure  to  be 
justified  by  other  Christians  of  like  zeal  and  fidelity. 
This  vindication  is  the  best  any  believer  can  have  in 
this  world,  and  it  is  almost  useless  for  him  to  seek 
any  other.  Those  who  do  not  see  that  he  is  a  child 
of  wisdom,  can  hardly  be  made  to  see  that  He  is. 
We  waste  breath,  and  time,  and  strength,  in  trying  to 
make  ourselves  understood  by  those  who  are  deter- 
mined to  misunderstand  us.  We  should  save  what  we 
thus  throw  away,  and  use  it  in  our  Master's  service, 
since  we  need  it  all  in  finishing  the  work  He  ha;S  given 


CHRISTIAN  CHARACTER.  227 

us  to  do.  Such  seems  to  be  the  explanation  of  Chi^ist's 
own  silence  on  all  those  occasions  when  crafty  men 
came  to  Him  asking  Him  why  He  did  thus  or  thus, 
and  He  refused  to  tell  them.  Infinite  though  He  was 
in  resources,  He  yet  had  no  strength  to  be  wasted  in 
convincing  the  foolish.  Though  brayed  in  a  mortar, 
their  folly  would  not  depart  from  them.  What 
behooved  Him  was  to  reveal  Himself  as  the  eternal 
wisdom  by  working  out  for  men  a  spiritual  redemp- 
tion, which  work  none  of  the  wise  would  fail  to  see, 
and  apj^rove,  and  rejoice  in.  "  So  live  that  others, 
seeing  your  good  works,  shall  be  led  to  glorify  your 
heavenly  Father."  "  So  live  "  is  the  injunction.  Not 
so  explain,  or  defend,  or  seek  to  justify  your  lives, 
that  others  about  you  shall  approve  your  cause ;  if 
they  criticise,  or  complain,  or  assault  j^ou,  stand  not 
on  the  defensive,  but  live  on,  still,  the  life  which  is  by 
the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  that  holy  living  will 
sooner  or  later  convince  as  many  as  by  any  means  can 
be  persuaded.  Such  was  Christ's  way  of  meeting  op- 
position ;  and  He  recommends  it  to  all  His  followers ; 
and  the  whole  eighteen  hundred  years  of  His  kingdom 
have  shown  that  this  is  the  only  weajDon  with  which 
we  can  effectually  beat  down  opposers  of  the  truth. 
Men  have  learned  with  what  profound  insight  Christ 
sjooke  these  words.  The  only  sure  way  of  putting 
down  slander,  misrepresentation,  evil  prejudice,  is  to 
live  it  down.  No  amount  of  statements  and  explana- 
tions, spread  out  before  the  public,  have  any  weight 
at  all  in  themselves.  They  are  believed,  only  as  the 
man  who  makes  them  has  proved  that  he  is  worthy  to 
be  believed,  by  a  steady  course  of  conduct.  The  per- 
son who  "  rises  to  explain,"  either  thereby  shows  him- 
self in  the  wrong,  or  unnecessarily  anxious.    We  begin 


228  SERMONS. 

to  suspect  him  as  his  apologies  multiply.  On  the 
contrary,  if  he  is  silent,  and  goes  on  quietly  attending 
to  his  duties,  our  confidence  in  him  increases.  Noth- 
ing else  so  vindicates  a  man  as  his  own  serene  silence, 
while  he  is  able  to  show,  in  connection  with  that 
silence,  a  blameless  and  useful  life.  Abuse,  hurled  at 
such  a  one,  only  returns  to  plague  its  inventors. 

The  Christian,  therefore,  who  hears  the  buzz  of 
scandal  rising  about  him,  while  he  is  faithfully  follow- 
ing his  Master,  should  not  stop  to  deny  or  answer  any 
charge,  but  keep  calmly  on  ;  for  his  stopping  and  turn- 
ing aside,  instead  of  mending  matters,  will  be  likely 
to  make  them  worse  ;  he  needs  no  vindication  besides 
his  silent  faithfulness  ;  wise  men  ask  only  for  that,  nor 
will  the  world  really  accept  any  other. 

We  read  in  the  twenty-first  chapter  of  Matthew 
that  the  chief  priests  and  elders  came  to  Christ,  just 
after  His  triumphal  entry  into  Jerusalem,  seeking  an 
explanation  of  His  conduct.  They  asked  Him  by 
what  authority  He  did  such  things.  He  replied  that 
He  would  tell  them,  if  they  would  answer  Him  a  sin- 
gle question :  was  John  the  Baptist  commissioned  of 
God,  or  by  men  ?  But  they  dared  not  answer ;  for  if 
they  said  John  came  from  God,  it  would  convict  them 
of  sin  in  not  believing  him;  and  if  they  denied  to 
him  all  divine  authority,  they  feared  the  people,  who 
held  John  to  be  a  prophet.  I  have  seen  this  passage 
criticised,  in  a  certain  skeptical  book,  as  proving  that 
Christ  evaded  honest  questions  in  a  spirit  of  mere 
banter  and  artifice.  The  charge  is  a  fair  specimen  of 
the  many  and  gross  misconstructions  on  which  infidels 
found  their  objections  to  the  Bible.  The  question 
which  Christ  asked  was  a  most  pertinent  one.  It  was 
a  test  question.     Its  object  was  to  bring  out,  as  it 


CHRISTIAN    CHARACTER.  229 

most  clearly  did,  the  unfitness  of  the  priests  and  elders 
to  judge  either  Him  or  His  doings.  It  showed  them 
that  they  were  swayed  in  their  judgment  by  the  fear 
of  man.  They  did  not  dare  say  just  what  they  thought 
of  John,  and  were  ready  to  say  either  one  of  two 
directly  opposite  things,  as  should  make  most  for  their 
present  ease  and  safety ;  or  if  they  could  not  do  this, 
they  would  refuse  to  say  anything.  The  fact  that  they 
had  no  honesty,  no  sincerity,  no  supreme  love  of  the 
truth,  but  were  willing  to  change  and  barter  their 
opinions  for  temporal  advantages,  was  thus  made  to 
stand  glaringly  forth.  They  must  have  felt  in  their 
own  consciences,  after  this  exposure,  that  they  had  no 
right  to  ask  any  one  to  come  to  them  for  judgment. 
If  Christ  had  been  in  doubt  of  His  own  authority,  it 
would  have  been  vain  for  Him  to  ask  help  at  their 
hands.  They  would  not  have  answered  the  question 
candidly  in  view  of  the  evidence,  but  as  their  own  fear 
or  ambition  should  dictate.  The  absurdity  of  their 
proposal  was  as  great  as  its  impudence ;  as  though 
blind  men  should  ask  the  artist  to  let  them  judge  his 
paintings  ;  as  though  the  merits  of  a  musical  perform- 
ance should  be  decided  by  one  who  cannot  tell  one 
tone  from  another;  as  though  it  should  be  left  to 
those  who  are  breaking  all  the  laws  of  the  land,  to  say 
who  are  good  citizens,  and  who  deserving  of  punish- 
ment. Our  Saviour  refused  to  submit  His  doinjrs 
to  any  such  arbitration ;  and  the  self -conceited  time- 
servers  were  glad  to  get  away  from  His  presence. 
Tliey  saw  how  totally  unfitted  they  were  to  canvass 
the  claims  of  One  who  was  infinitely  above  their 
worldly  expediency  ;  who  was  born,  and  came  into  the 
world,  that  He  might  bear  witness  to  the  truth.  What 
had  wisdom  to  do  either  with  the  approval  or  the 


230  SERMONS. 

condemnation  of  those  who  were  not  the  children  of 
wisdom  ? 

It  is  because  of  this  human  imperfection,  from 
which  the  best  are  not  wholly  free,  that  the  great  les- 
son of  charity  is  urged  in  the  Scriptures.  "  Judge 
not,  that  ye  be  not  judged  "  is  the  noble  precept  in 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount.  "  How  wilt  thou  say  to 
thy  brother,  Let  me  pull  out  the  mote  out  of  thine 
eye;  and  behold,  a  beam  is  in  thine  own  eye?" 
Christ  made  the  hypocritical  priests  aware  of  the 
beam  by  which  their  vision  was  blurred.  How  beau- 
tiful the  spirit  of  the  apostle  in  his  carrying  out  the 
instructions  of  our  divine  Master !  He  writes  to  the 
Corinthians :  "  But  with  me  it  is  a  very  small  thing 
that  I  should  be  judged  of  you,  or  of  man's  judg- 
ment ;  yea,  I  judge  not  mine  own  self."  Only  as  we 
are  the  children  of  wisdom,  having  in  us  the  wis- 
dom which  Cometh  from  above,  are  we  at  all  fitted 
to  judge  one  another ;  and  our  perfect  faith  and  joy 
in  Christ  are  the  best  proof  we  can  have  that  this 
supreme  blessing  has  been  imparted  to  our  souls.  All 
the  glory  and  beauty  of  the  divine  nature  come  to  us 
in  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  He  was  God  manifest  in  the 
flesh.  His  person  reveals  to  us  the  loveliness  of  in- 
finite mercy,  the  majesty  of  immutable  justice,  the 
great  mystery  of  divine  forgiveness  and  grace.  All 
that  is  gentle  in  human  intercourse,  all  that  is  pure  in 
thought  and  speech,  all  the  possibilities  of  tenderness 
to  the  poor,  sympathy  with  the  sorrowing,  forbear- 
ance towards  wanderers,  patience  under  ill-treatment, 
serene  fortitude  amid  sufferings,  loving  efforts  to 
benefit  and  bless  the  outcasts  of  society,  shine  out  in 
the  life  of  Christ,  so  as  to  make  any  other  goodness 
seem  tame   and   worthless.     Do  you   recognize   this 


CHRISTIAN  CHARACTER.  231 

beauty  in  Jesus  Christ?  Do  you  justify  His  wis- 
dom ?  Is  He  your  soul's  ideal,  which  you  are  daily 
striving  to  realize  ?  Woidd  you  gladly  give  all  that 
you  have,  if  your  great  longing  to  be  like  Him  might 
be  filled  ?  If  you  might  be  pure  as  He  is  pure  ?  if 
you  might  endure  the  contradiction  of  sinners  as  He 
endured  it  ?  if  you  could  turn  your  other  cheek  to  the 
smiter  as  He  did  when  smitten?  if  you  could  pray 
His  wondrous  prayer,  "  Father,  forgive  them,"  for 
those  seeking  your  life  ?  If  you  have  the  witness  in 
your  heart  that  such  is  your  love,  such  your  longing, 
such  your  constant  and  earnest  struggle,  then  happy 
are  you.  This  outgoing  of  your  soul  after  the  holy 
Son  of  God  is  that  recognition  of  the  divine  wisdom 
which  proves  you  to  be  a  child  of  wisdom.  You  have 
secured  the  pearl  of  great  price.  No  spirits  may  be 
subject  unto  you  ;  your  name  and  power  in  the  world 
may  be  small,  that  is  ;  nevertheless  you  should  rejoice, 
for  your  name  is  written  in  heaven.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  if  you  see  no  beauty  in  Christ ;  if  He  is  to  you 
a  root  out  of  dry  ground,  having  neither  form  nor 
comeliness  in  your  eyes,  and  your  soul  does  not  desire 
Him,  does  it  not  follow,  by  the  same  necessity  as  in 
the  other  case,  that  heavenly  wisdom  has  no  dwelling- 
place  in  you  ?  Here  we  see  just  what  it  was  that 
Christ  meant  when  He  said  that  He  came  not  to  bring 
peace  on  the  earth,  but  division.  He  divides  men  into 
two  classes.  His  holy  and  blessed  person  attracts  the 
good,  but  it  repels  the  bad.  The  wise  justify  Him, 
but  the  foolish  condemn  Him.  These,  in  their  succes- 
sion, make  two  long  ranks  running  down  through  the 
generations,  —  one  on  the  right  hand  and  the  other  on 
the  left,  between  which  His  throne  of  judgment  is  set. 
There  is  nothing  else  for  which  the  true  ministers  of 


232  SERMONS. 

Christ  watch  with  so  much  solicitude  as  to  see  how 
you  shall  range  yourself  in  reference  to  these  two 
parties.  If  you  slirink  from  Christ ;  if  you  find  fault 
with  His  doctrines  ;  if  you  doubt  His  authority ;  if 
you  are  ashamed  of  His  service,  it  proves  that  you 
have  not  the  spirit  of  wisdom  dwelling  in  you.  But 
if  you  forsake  all,  and  follow  Him ;  if  you  cleave  to 
His  glorious  person,  hide  His  precepts  in  your  heart, 
and  make  His  hfe  the  pattern  of  yours,  it  proves  that 
the  spirit  of  glory  and  of  God  rests  upon  you.  Your 
answer,  therefore,  to  the  question  "  What  think  ye  of 
Christ  ?  "  has  more  to  do  with  the  revelation  of  your 
own  character  than  of  His.  God  is  all  the  time  offer- 
ing this  test  to  men ;  nor  can  they  escape  it ;  it  judge th 
every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world. 

It  is  in  view  of  our  imperfections,  and  tJie  erroneous 
judgments  we  make,  that  our  minds  are  pointed  on  to 
a  day  when  God  shall  judge  the  world.  ''  Judge  noth- 
ing before  the  time,"  said  St.  Paul ;  "  until  the  Lord 
come,  who  both  will  bring  to  light  the  hidden  things 
of  darkness,  and  will  make  manifest  the  counsels  of 
the  hearts ;  and  then  shall  every  man  have  praise  of 
God."  But  this  judgment,  so  necessary  owing  to  our 
present  wrong  estimates  of  men,  is  wholly  needless  to 
the  Judge  Himself.  He  has  been  dividing  between 
the  sheep  and  the  goats  all  along  through  the  world's 
history.  This  separation  is  known  to  Him,  though 
concealed  from  us ;  and  hence  that  last  great  day  is 
called,  at  least  in  one  place,  not  the  judgment  itself, 
but  the  revelation  of  the  righteous  judgment  of  God. 
We  are  so  imperfect  as  constantly  to  err  from  that 
final  verdict  when  we  pronounce  sentence  on  our  fel- 
low-men. Christ  alone,  of  all  who  have  lived  in  the 
flesh,  is  free  from  our  liability  to  mistake.     He  could 


CHRISTIAN  CHARACTER.  233 

say,  "My  judgment  is  just;  for  I  do  not  mine  own 
will,  but  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  me."  Being  the 
Son  of  God,  co-equal  with  Him,  dwelling  with  the 
Father  from  eternity,  He  knew  all  that  the  Father 
knew.  The  spirit  of  holiness  and  of  truth  rested  on 
Him  without  measure.  His  will  was  in  perfect  accord 
with  the  Father's ;  their  thoughts  and  purposes  were 
ever  going  forth  through  the  same  channels.  Hence 
He  could  anticipate  the  awards  of  the  last  day.  He 
could  give  a  sentence  concerning  every  man,  which  no 
verdict  of  that  day  would  change  or  reverse.  His 
judgTiients  were  prophetic,  for  He  saw  the  end  from 
the  beginning ;  nor  were  there  any  yesterdays  or  to- 
morrows to  Him,  but  all  the  circle  of  human  doings 
and  destiny  lay  present  in  the  grasp  of  His  infinite 
mind. 

But  besides  these  judicial  acts,  by  which  Christ  dis- 
cerns between  the  righteous  and  the  wicked,  are  the 
diverse  effects  upon  men  of  His  revelation  to  them  as 
the  incarnate  love.  Those  who  have  His  own  love  in 
them  are  drawn  to  His  side.  If  wise  themselves,  they 
recognize  Him  as  the  embodiment  of  all  wisdom. 
Not  doing  this,  they  betray  their  own  hearts,  which  are 
full  of  a  spirit  opposite  to  His.  His  own  sheep  hear 
His  voice,  and  they  follow  Him.  Those  who  fail  to 
do  this  are  judged  by  their  own  doings,  showing  that 
He  has  nothing  in  them.  The  child  knows  its  moth- 
er's voice,  and  runs  to  her  when  she  lovingly  calls. 
Failing  to  do  this,  it  is  counted  an  alien.  When  a 
great  magnet  is  let  down  among  metallic  particles, 
those  having  an  affinity  for  it  spring  into  contact  with 
it.  When  the  heavier  cords  of  a  harp  vibrate,  the 
finer  strings  tremble  in  unison.  So  it  is  when  the 
eternal  wisdom  comes  down  to  us  in  the  likeness  of 


234  SERMONS. 

men.  All  the  wise  are  attracted  to  Him,  and  the  un- 
wise repelled.  Our  hearty  response  to  His  teachings 
not  only  justifies  Him,  but  proves  that  we  are  the 
children  of  wisdom.  Leaving  men,  therefore,  to  make 
up  their  minds  as  they  should  see  fit  concerning  Him, 
He  went  serenely  on  His  way,  doing  the  will  of  His 
Father.  It  was  not  Him,  but  themselves,  that  they 
judged.  He  need  not  delay  to  explain  His  doings  or 
to  prove  His  authority ;  all  the  good  would  be  with 
Him,  and  if  any  chose  to  be  against  Him,  they  did  so 
at  the  peril  of  their  own  souls.  Their  opposition  to 
Him  was  nothing,  save  as  it  stirred  His  compassion 
to  see  the  proof  of  their  perverseness.  He  must  work 
while  the  day  lasted,  drawing  to  Himself  such  as  were 
to  be  saved ;  nor  would  He  waste  one  moment  in  refut- 
ing objections  which  could  occur  only  to  those  blinded 
by  sin.  The  fact  that  they  asked  Him  such  questions 
proved  that  no  effectual  answer  could  be  given  them. 
It  was  a  new  heart  that  they  needed,  not  clearer 
instruction  as  to  His  claims.  Knowledge  would  not 
help  their  case  till  they  had  been  born  again. 

Thus  did  Christ  leave  His  life  of  love  unexplained, 
to  work  its  own  justification  in  the  hearts  of  good 
men ;  and  thus,  dear  friends,  are  we  to  leave  ours. 
All  our  concern  should  be  to  be  found  in  Christ ;  this 
is  that  kingdom  of  God,  which  if  we  seek,  other  things 
needful  will  follow  in  their  order.  We  need  not  spend 
half  our  strength  and  time  trying  to  make  foolish  and 
worldly  men  comprehend  us.  They  will  persist  in 
misunderstanding  us.  We  cannot  be  understood  by 
them  if  we  are  true  to  our  Lord,  since  they  have  n  )t 
the  spirit  which  controls  us  dwelling  in  them.  We 
are  not  like  those  Israelites  rebuilding  the  walls  of 
Jerusalem,  who  wrought  with  one  hand  and  held  their 


CHRISTIAN   CHARACTER.  235 

weapons  with  the  other.  We  may  give  our  undivided 
strength  to  the  task  our  Master  has  set  us.  No  failure 
or  harm  can  come  to  us  while  we  are  thus  enofasred. 
Those  who  assail  us  do  but  put  themselves  in  the  way 
of  danger.  What  they  deem  a  judging  of  us  is  a 
self-condemnation.  They  are  broken  by  the  rock  on 
which  they  fall,  and  that  same  rock,  falling  upon  them, 
grinds  them  to  j^owder. 

Is  it  not,  therefore,  a  strong  inducement  which  our 
subject  offers  to  those  not  yet  in  Christ's  service, 
straightway  to  become  His  followers?  You  think 
His  yoke  hard,  but  it  is  easy.  It  does  not  cramp  your 
soul ;  it  unbinds  all  your  nobler  powers,  and  lets  them 
go  free.  It  delivers  you  from  that  fear  of  man  which 
bringeth  a  snare.  It  gives  you  such  assurance  of 
union  with  Christ,  and  of  victory  in  His  name,  that 
you  are  content  to  go  calmly  on,  doing  what  you  find 
to  do,  regardless  of  any  censures  or  doubts  which  your 
conduct  may  provoke.  Those  who  oppose  you,  while 
you  are  thus  in  Christ,  do  not  condemn  you  but  them- 
selves. If  they  were  the  children  of  wisdom,  they 
would  justify  that  wise  obedience  to  the  divine  will 
which  you  steadily  show.  No  true  servant  of  Christ 
can  differ  from  Him  more  than  John  did  ;  yet  there 
was  in  John  that  essential  oneness  with  Christ  which 
was  all  the  vindication  he  needed  before  men.  Rarely 
have  two  disciples  differed  more  in  temperament,  train- 
ing, opinions,  and  habits  of  mind  than  did  Peter  and 
Paul.  The  first  ecclesiastical  council  of  which  we 
have  any  notice  seems  to  have  been  with  a  view  to 
reconciling  their  differences.  They  were  so  unlike  as 
to  be  unable  to  labor  together  harmoniously.  Yet 
each  found  his  place  in  the  kingdom  of  Christ ;  one 
could  go  to  the  Jews,  the  other  to  the  Gentiles.     Thus 


236  SERMONS. 

each  was  free  to  preach  the  gospel  in  his  own  way,  and 
develop  the  type  of  piety  most  natural  to  him,  while 
neither  of  them  distrusted  the  fidelity  of  the  other, 
but  both  alike  rejoiced  that  their  peculiarities  were 
used  of  God  for  the  furtherance  of  the  gospel.  So 
true  is  it,  that  if  the  Son  make  us  free,  we  are  free 
indeed.  Nothing  else  gives  such  play  and  scope  to  all 
our  ideas  of  real  manliness  and  independence  as  the 
gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  We  can  scorn  to  go  apologiz- 
ing through  the  world,  even  as  Christ  did,  remember- 
ing that  wisdom  needs  no  defense,  but  is  justified  of 
her  children.  No  wonder  that  St.  Paul  wrote  to  the 
Galatians  to  stand  fast  in  the  liberty  wherewith  Christ 
had  made  them  free.  How  strange  that  any  should 
hesitate  to  come  after  Him  who  alone  has  power  to 
make  them  the  sons  of  God !  Would  you  have  the 
germs  of  your  manhood  take  root  in  good  ground? 
Then  make  choice  of  Christ.  Are  you  anxious  for  the 
fair  maturity  of  your  various  powers  ?  Christian  dis- 
cipleship  is  the  air  and  sunlight  which  shall  cause  that 
harvest  to  ripen.  Christ  is  made  unto  us  wisdom; 
and  they  that  are  found  in  Him,  not  having  on  their 
own  righteousness,  but  that  which  He  gives  them,  are 
the  wise  —  who  shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the 
firmament  and  as  the  stars  forever  and  ever. 


THE   LIMITS   OF   CHRISTIAN  LIBERTY. 

But  wisdom  is  justified  of  her  children.  —  Matt.  xi.  19. 

There  is  an  essential  character  of  goodness,  and 
simple  devotion  to  the  will  of  God,  in  all  Christians, 
in  virtue  of  which  they  recognize  one  another  as  breth- 
ren whenever  they  meet,  however  they  may  differ  on 
subordinate  questions.  Christ  beheld  in  John  the 
Baptist  a  true  prophet  of  God,  and  John  beheld  in 
Christ  the  long-promised  Messiah.  Those  who  pre- 
tended to  be  God's  servants,  but  who  stumbled  at  the 
diverse  manners  of  John  and  Christ,  not  recoefnizing: 
their  unity  of  spirit  in  obedience  to  the  divine  will, 
showed  thereby  that  they  were  themselves  destitute  of 
that  spirit :  if  they  had  been  the  children  of  wisdom, 
they  would  have  justified  wisdom.  Christian  disciple- 
ship  does  not  cramp  indi\'iduality.  It  is  a  spirit  rather 
than  a  form.  It  leaves  each  disciple  free  in  his  man- 
ner of  life,  and  teaches  that  the  great  company  of  dis- 
ciples, throughout  the  whole  world,  mutually  recogniz- 
ing themselves  as  of  one  mind  despite  all  diversities 
of  manner,  will  dwell  together  in  love.  This  individ- 
ual freedom,  in  things  external  and  subordinate,  is 
what  the  apostles  call  Christian  liberty.  It  was  espe- 
cially insisted  on  by  them,  as  that  which  Jewish  Chris- 
tians should  concede  to  Gentile  Christians.  The 
former  might  still  practice  the  Mosaic  ritual,  if  they 
chose  to,  since  their  training  as  a  people  made  it  nat- 
ural to  them  ;  but  to  the  latter  it  was  unnatural,  con- 


238  SERMONS. 

trary  to  all  their  habits  and  traditions.  Why  should 
the  Jew  put  his  yoke  on  the  Gentile,  any  more  than 
the  Gentile  his  on  the  Jew  ?  These  matters,  in  which 
they  so  widely  differed,  did  not  enter  into  their  es- 
sential character  as  Christians.  "  We  believe,"  said 
Peter,  who  spoke  for  the  Jewish  party  in  the  church, 
"  that  through  the  grace  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  we 
shall  be  saved,  even  as  they." 

But  this  Christian  liberty,  of  which  the  text  is  so 
suggestive  in  its  connection,  has  a  limit.  That  limit 
is  what  the  apostles  call  "  the  law  of  Christ."  We 
must  never  break  this  law  in  the  exercise  of  our  free- 
dom ;  and  we  never  shall  break  it,  if  we  have  Christ's 
spirit.  The  law  of  Christ  may  be  said  to  be  that 
principle  of  self-devotion  for  the  good  of  others  which 
actuated  Christ,  and  by  which  all  His  conduct  was 
regulated  as  a  Redeemer  and  Saviour.  Well  may  it 
be  called  His  law,  for  His  unselfish  life  is  the  first, 
and  the  only  perfect,  embodiment  of  the  idea  of  self- 
consecration  to  the  welfare  of  other  men,  of  which 
history  gives  us  any  account.  Many  of  the  names  by 
which  Christ  is  known  to  us  —  such  as  the  Sacrifice, 
the  Atonement,  our  Sin-offering,  the  Lamb  of  God 
slain  for  us  —  struggle  to  express  this  idea.  It  is  His 
blood  by  which  we  are  cleansed  from  all  sin.  By  His 
death  we  live.  He  laid  down  His  life  for  us.  He  was 
crucified  that  God  might  be  just  and  justify  him  that 
believeth  in  Jesus.  Christ  never  looked  upon  His 
own  things  with  a  view  to  taking  care  of  them ;  but 
He  always  looked  on  the  things  of  another,  and  freely 
offered  up  His  own  for  the  sake  of  the  othef  This 
was  the  law  of  His  life  ;  this  explains  to  us  the  law  of 
Christ.  In  obedience  to  this  law  He  laid  aside  the 
forms  of  divinity.     Though  equal  with  God,  He  took 


LIMITS    OF   CHRISTIAN  LIBERTY.  239 

the  likeness  of  our  sinful  flesh.  He  made  Himself  of 
no  reputation.  Being  found  in  fashion  as  a  man,  He 
became  obedient  even  unto  the  death  of  the  cross. 

Now  in  all  this  humiliation  and  sacrifice  Christ  was 
entirely  free.  He  voluntarily  chose  to  limit  His  own 
liberty  by  a  supreme  regard  for  the  holiness  and 
happiness  of  others.  He  had  a  right  to  live  as  He 
pleased  while  in  communion  with  the  Father;  but 
that  very  communion  involved  the  purpose  to  live  not 
unto  Himself.  God  is  love.  The  energies  of  His 
infinite  being  are  all  the  time  flowing  out  away  from 
Himself  in  efforts  to  bless  the  creatures  He  has  made. 
The  law  of  Christ,  therefore,  grows  out  of  the  law  by 
which  the  holy  God  regulates  all  His  doings ;  and  in 
placing  that  law  on  us,  as  a  rule  which  we  are  to 
observe  in  the  enjoyment  of  our  liberty,  Christ  but 
exhorts  us  to  be  like  our  Father  in  heaven,  who  makes 
His  sun  to  shine  upon  the  evil  and  the  good,  and  sends 
His  rain  on  the  just  and  the  unjust.  As  the  Father 
sent  Him  into  the  world,  so  hath  He  sent  us  into  the 
world.  He  came  freely  ;  and  our  service  is  to  be 
without  constraint  in  order  to  be  genuine.  He  chose 
to  use  the  liberty  which  was  His  by  virtue  of  His 
divine  sonship,  in  those  ways  only  which  would  tend 
to  the  rescue  of  lost  men  and  the  edification  of  His 
tempted  brethren ;  and  we,  if  we  be  truly  His,  shall 
be  glad  to  put  ourselves  under  the  same  law,  —  deny- 
ing ourselves  that  others  may  be  helped  in  the  strug- 
gle with  sin  and  temptation.  ''  Bear  ye  one  another's 
burdens,  and  so  fulfill  the  law  of  Christ,"  writes  Paul 
to  the  Galatians.  The  burdens  which  He  has  in  mind 
are  human  weaknesses  and  imperfections.  Every  one 
has  more  or  less  of  these.  We  may  take  note  of 
them  in   our  brethren,  not  in  a  censorious,  but  in  a 


240  SERMONS. 

kind  and  sympathetic  spirit;  may  watch  over  one 
another,  not  for  our  halting,  but  for  our  edification. 
Wherever  we  see  these  "  burdens,"  of  whatever  sort, 
if  we  have  the  spirit  of  Christ  we  shall  help  those 
oppressed  by  them  to  bear  their  infirmity.  We  shall 
not  turn  coldly  or  indifferently  away ;  we  shall  not 
persist  in  a  line  of  practice  by  which  our  brother's  in- 
firmity, taking  advantage  of  what  we  do,  brings  him 
more  and  more  into  bondage.  We  shall  obey  the  law 
of  Christ  by  freely  limiting  our  individual  liberty,  as 
far  as  may  be  needful  to  shield  him  from  temptation 
or  to  strengthen  him  in  any  efforts  he  may  be  mak- 
ing to  overcome  evil  with  good. 

I  understand  the  apostle  to  give  an  illustration  of 
what  he  means  by  the  law  of  Christ,  when  he  says : 
"  It  is  good  neither  to  eat  flesh,  nor  to  drink  wine,  nor 
anything  whereby  thy  brother  stumbleth,  or  is  of- 
fended, or  is  made  weak."  Self-denials,  which  may 
seem  to  us  not  only  needless  for  our  own  good,  but  in 
themselves  puerile  or  ridiculous  even,  may  be  neces- 
sary to  the  rescue  or  protection  of  some  other  person ; 
for  his  sake,  therefore,  we  are  to  submit  to  them  in 
all  joyfulness,  even  as  Christ,  for  our  sake,  stooped  to 
that  which  was  so  far  below  the  dignity  of  His  infinite 
glory  and  person.  Where  is  our  warrant  that  we  are 
the  followers  of  Christ,  if  we  persist  in  violating  this 
law  of  Christ  ?  We  are  free  from  all  those  regula- 
tions of  men  by  which  they  seek  to  shape  our  manner 
of  life  either  this  way  or  that ;  but  in  the  exercise  of 
our  freedom  we  shall,  as  the  Lord's  brethren,  choose 
to  be  under  that  law  which  says,  "  Tempt  not  thy  weak 
brother,  but  help  him  to  bear  his  infirmity."  If  we 
refuse  thus  to  let  the  law  of  Christ  control  our  Chris- 
tian liberty,  then  how  can  we  be  said  to  walk  chari- 


LIMITS   OF  CHRISTIAN  LIBERTY.         241 

tably  toward  our  brother,  and  not  the  rather  to  put  a 
stumblin2:-block  before  him  for  whom  Christ  died? 
Christ  washing  the  feet  of  His  disciples,  if  viewed 
only  from  the  point  of  His  infinite  excellency,  seems 
painfully  incongruous  to  our  eyes  ;  but  if  we  consider 
the  spirit  in  which  He  acted,  how  sublime  the  scene ! 
The  Son  of  man  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but 
to  minister.  I  am  among  you  as  one  that  serveth.  If 
I,  the  Master,  have  washed  your  feet,  ye  ought  also  to 
wash  one  another's  feet.  Not  using  our  liberty  for  an 
offense  unto  any,  but  in  all  things  striving  to  deliver 
and  purify  and  bless  our  fellow-men,  is  a  principle  so 
essential  to  the  whole  spirit  of  Christianity,  that  the 
absence  of  it,  manifested  in  our  daily  lives,  brings  the 
whole  character  of  our  discipleship  under  grave  sus- 
picion. By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them.  If  the 
seed  of  the  kingdom  has  been  truly  sown  in  our 
hearts,  we  shall  bear  the  fruits  of  the  kingdom. 

We'  cannot  excuse  ourselves  from  this  law  of  Christ 
on  the  ground  that  our  f  eUow-men  have  no  right  to  de- 
mand it  of  us  in  our  practice.  Most  certainly  they  have 
no  such  right.  It  is  every  man's  duty  to  make  his  own 
peace  with  God,  to  escape  from  evil  habits  and  form 
good  habits,  whatever  I  may  do  or  neglect  to  do.  Each 
one  to  whom  the  gospel  is  preached  is  responsible  to 
God  for  his  own  soul.  The  question  for  you  to  meet 
at  the  great  tribunal  will  be,  not  whether  everybody 
else  was  true  to  you,  but  whether  you  have  been  true 
to  yourseK.  You  have  no  claim  upon  Christians  for 
this  obedience  to  the  law  of  Christ,  any  more  than 
the  world  had  a  claim  on  Cln-ist  to  die  for  them  that 
He  might  take  away  their  sins.  Your  personal  re- 
sponsibility is  not  lessened.  There  is  something  for 
you  to  do  in  your  own  behalf,  nor  must  you  expect 


242  SERMONS. 

others  to  accomplish  that  work.  But  though  the 
tempted  and  vicious  and  sinfid  cannot  demand  this 
loving  service,  this  denial  and  sacrifice  of  self  on  their 
account,  yet  we  cannot  help  rendering  it.  So  mighty 
was  the  love  of  Christ,  that  He  could  not  help  becom- 
ing a  sacrifice  for  our  sins.  We  may  join  with  Him, 
laying  down  our  lives  for  others  as  He  did  His ;  yet 
there  will  be  enough  still  for  others  to  do ;  our  sym- 
pathy for  them  will  not  of  itself  be  effectual  to  their 
salvation  ;  and  we  may  devote  ourselves  for  their  good 
in  such  ways  that  they  shall  not  be  hindered,  but  stim- 
ulated to  greater  diligence  in  making  their  calling  and 
election  sure.  It  is  the  spirit  of  Christ  which  causes 
us  to  practice  the  law  of  Christ.  We  live  not  unto 
ourselves.  Wherever  we  see  suffering,  temptation, 
weakness,  struggle  with  sin,  we  go  at  once  to  the  side 
of  the  hard-pressed  brother  ;  nor  can  we  resist  the 
impulse  to  take  hold  with  him,  and  help  him  turn  his 
defeat  into  victory,  —  utterly  forgetful  of  our  own  in- 
dividual rights  for  the  time  being,  so  that  our  Chris- 
tian liberty  finds  its  most  glorious  manifestation  in 
the  crucifying  of  ourselves  for  our  brother. 

The  subordinating  of  our  Christian  liberty  to  the 
law  of  Christ,  as  now  explained,  has  in  it  one  tempta- 
tion respecting  which  we  need  to  be  on  our  guard. 
We  are  tempted  to  credit  ourselves  with  a  certain 
superior  goodness,  in  comparison  with  those  for  whose 
sake  we  practice  self-denial.  They  are  weak ;  we  are 
strong.  We  stoop  to  them,  that  they  may  rise  to  us. 
Our  help  is  needful  to  them,  and  we  are  able  to 
afford  them  help.  Such  are  the  reflections  which,  if 
we  indulge  them,  may  beget  within  us  a  self-righteous 
spirit.  The  temptation  is  to  think  more  highly  of 
ourselves  than  we  ought  to  think.     But  the  duty  of 


LIMITS   OF  CHRISTIAN  LIBERTY.         243 

practicing  the  law  of  Christ  is  very  clear,  nor  can  we 
excuse  ourselves  from  it  on  the  ground  of  this  expos- 
ure to  spiritual  pride.  The  performance  of  any  Chris- 
tian duty  is  beset  with  temptations.  Life  itself  is  a 
season  of  trial,  —  a  "  probation  "  the  Scriptures  term 
it.  Christ,  who  practiced  this  law  as  no  one  else  ever 
has  or  can,  was  meek  and  lowly  of  heart.  He  is 
eternally  conscious  of  His  own  infinite  rectitude.  He 
has,  from  the  beginning,  kno\vn  the  sins  and  weak- 
nesses of  mankind  with  a  perfect  knowledge.  All 
the  time  is  He  stooping  from  His  own  supreme  heights 
of  goodness  to  raise  men  up  out  of  the  deep  pit  of 
iniquity  into  which  they  have  fallen.  Yet  He  is  not 
lifted  up  in  His  own  thoughts,  nor  made  censorious 
and  harsh ;  neither  doth  He  despise  the  most  abased 
of  mortals.  We  are  constrained  to  fear,  therefore, 
that  a  certain  element  of  hypocrisy  must  mar  our  dis- 
cipleship,  if  we  fall  into  a  vain  conceit  of  our  superior 
goodness,  while  we  think  that  we  are  fulfilling  the  law 
of  Christ.  We  cannot  really  begin  to  fulfill  that  law, 
but  our  outward  conformity  to  it  is  all  a  delusion, 
unless  we  have  the  spirit  of  Christ.  That  spirit  will 
fill  us  with  meekness  ;  it  will  clothe  us  with  humility ; 
so  that  when  we  have  done  all  we  can  do,  we  shall 
count  ourselves  unprofitable  servants.  We  shall  all 
the  time  feel,  however  great  our  sacrifices,  that  the 
vast  debt  of  love  which  we  owe  to  all  men  for  Christ's 
sake,  is  still  unpaid.  We  shall  abound  in  the  work  of 
the  Lord,  and  strive  to  fill  up  what  is  behind  of  His 
sufferings,  fearing  lest  we  should  altogether  fail  of  any 
fit  token  of  gratitude  to  Him  vvho  loved  us  and  gave 
Himself  for  us.  But  aside  from  this  amazing  fact  of 
the  love  of  Christ,  which  kept  St.  Paul  from  being 
unduly  elated  amid  his  heroic  toils  and  sacrifices  for 


244  SERMONS. 

otliers,  we  are  to  remember  that,  after  all,  we  are  not, 
in  ourselves  considered,  superior  to  those  feeble  ones 
for  whom  we  deny  ourselves.  If  we  differ  at  all  from 
them,  it  is  God  who  maketh  us  to  differ.  Free  grace, 
unmerited  and  unsought  by  us,  has  come  down  into 
our  hearts  in  the  power  of  the  spirit,  and  begotten  us 
from  the  dead  to  a  lively  hope  in  Christ  Jesus.  It  is 
not  we  that  live,  but  Christ  liveth  in  us ;  and  the  faith 
by  which  we  receive  this  new  life  is  the  gift  of  God. 
Of  ourselves  we  are  nothing.  We  are  of  like  passions 
with  the  worst  and  weakest  of  those  whom  we  stoop 
to  help.  "  But  for  the  grace  of  God  there  goes  Rich- 
ard Baxter,"  in  the  vilest  sinner  whom  Richard  Bax- 
ter meets.  Hence  the  touching  power  of  the  apostolic 
argument,  "  considering  thyseK  lest  thou  also  be 
tempted,"  The  consciousness  of  their  own  fallibility 
will  cause  those  who  are  spiritual  to  restore  their  er- 
ring brother  in  a  spirit  of  meekness.  It  is  the  evil 
tendencies  in  our  lower  nature  which  we  are  to  cru- 
cify for  the  sake  of  the  brethren.  How  do  we  know 
but  that  we  need  to  crucify  those  tendencies  for  our 
own  sake  ?  Let  him  that  thinketh  he  standeth,  take 
heed  lest  he  fall.  We  may  be  running  a  risk  even  in 
those  indulgences  which  we  deem  innocent.  We  may 
be  nourishing  habits  which,  like  a  poisonous  vine,  will 
grow  up  gradually  around  us  and  spread  out  over  our 
higher  nature,  killing  the  divine  life  in  us,  and  bring- 
ing our  noblest  faculties  into  the  bondage  of  corrup- 
tion. We  cannot  tell  but  that  the  flesh  may  ere  long 
regain  its  control  of  the  spirit  in  us,  if  we  give  it  any 
occasion.  It  is  better,  for  ourselves  as  well  as  for  the 
tempted  about  us,  that  we  should  bring  the  flesh  into 
subjection,  and  keep  it  under  by  obeying  the  law  of 
Christ. 


LIMITS   OF  CHRISTIAN  LIBERTY.         245 

Having  now  stated  the  limits  within  which  Chris- 
tians may  innocently  differ  one  from  another,  even  as 
Chi'ist  and  John  differed,  let  us  return  to  the  fact  of 
the  essential  oneness  of  Christians  and  consider  what 
should  be  the  effect  upon  them  of  this.  I  have  already 
stated,  incidentally,  that  they  will  mutually  recognize 
this  essential  oneness  amid  all  their  differences  as  in- 
dividuals. Passing  on,  therefore,  from  this  point,  let 
us  consider  how  this  grand  truth  of  agreement  in 
Christ  should  affect  the  intercourse  of  different  bodies 
of  Christians.  I  believe  that  the  development  of  the 
church  of  Christ  into  various  denominations  is  entirely 
legitimate.  The  doctrine  of  world-wide  uniformity, 
in  externals,  is  unphilosophical.  All  the  analogies  of 
nature  are  against  such  a  conclusion.  She  teaches, 
everywhere,  that  it  is  by  differentiation  that  devel- 
opment goes  forward.  Vegetable  life  unfolds  into  a 
variety  of  plants.  Sentient  life  does  not  work  itself 
out  through  a  single  type,  but  appears  in  the  almost 
boundless  variety  of  animal  races.  It  is  the  church 
which  is  one.  The  denominations,  which  contain  the 
church  under  some  human,  local,  or  temporal  form, 
may  be  a  thousand  or  ten  thousand.  There  should  be 
as  many  of  them  as  are  needed,  in  order  that  men 
of  diverse  civilizations,  of  different  habits  and  tastes, 
of  varying  culture,  of  disagreeing  race-tendencies,  of 
unlike  education  and  refinement,  may  all  find  a  place 
into  which  they  can  gather  in  sjnnpathetic  bodies, 
there  to  express  tlieir  faith  in  Christ  in  such  ways  and 
forms  as  are  adapted  to  their  present  condition.  And 
if  the  members  of  these  different  bodies  are  indeed 
Christians,  they  will  recognize  all  of  like  faith  not  in 
their  own  body,  and  will  be  drawn  into  fellowship  and 
cooperation  with  them.     Being  the  children  of  wds- 


246  SERMONS. 

dom,  they  will  justify  wisdom,  in  whatever  guise  it 
appears.  Christ  aud  John  belonged  severally  to  the 
two  great  economies,  so  unlike,  which  the  Bible  de- 
scribes to  us.  Yet  their  differences  did  not  keep  them 
from  recognizing  each  other  as  laborers  together. 
They  would  not  be  rivals.  Each  did  his  own  work  as 
a  part  of  the  one  comp>rehensive  work  which  they  both 
were  to  accomplish.  Thus,  it  seems  to  me,  should  the 
different  bodies  of  Christians  work  together  always. 
They  shoidd  admit  that  their  differences,  though  a 
comfort  and  convenience  to  them,  are  of  purely  human 
and  temporal  origin.  The  essential  element  of  the 
kingdom  of  Christ  not  being  any  or  all  of  these, 
though  expressed  variously  through  them,  they  should 
not  be  erected  into  barriers  in  the  way  of  Christian 
fellowship.  Each  branch  should  be  ready  to  recognize 
all  the  other  branches  as  grafted  into  the  same  vine 
with  itself ;  and  there  should  be  that  interchange  of 
fraternal  acts  and  frequent  greetings  in  the  name  of 
Christ,  and  cooperation,  absence  of  unfriendly  rivalry, 
and  rejoicing  of  all  over  the  prosperity  of  each,  which 
shall  prove  to  the  world  that  they  are  one  in  the  midst 
of  all  their  differences.  This  I  believe  to  be  the  unity 
for  which  Christ  prayed  at  the  last  supper.  All  the 
denominations  may  continue  as  they  are,  or  their  num- 
ber may  be  indefinitely  increased,  in  the  Millennium ; 
it  is  their  mutual  love,  their  cooperation,  and  gladness 
at  seeing  one  another  built  up,  which  shall  make  them 
one,  and  prove  that  Christ  came  forth  from  the 
Father. 

Another  effect  of  this  recognition  of  discipleship  in 
others,  by  those  who  themselves  have  it,  is  to  draw 
these  latter  into  fellowship  with  the  former.  This 
remark  ai^i^lies  to  those,  hoping  they  are  in  Christ, 


LIMITS   OF  CHRISTIAN  LIBERTY.         247 

who  are  still  outside  of  the  church.  Perhaps  there 
are  some  such  here  to-day.  If  so,  they  must  see  that 
their  state  of  isolation  is  not  natural.  It  is  contrary 
to  what  they  must  feel  to  be  the  secret  drawmg  of 
their  heart.  It  violates  that  affinity  which  faith  ever 
has  for  faith.  If  there  were  but  two  particles  of  mat- 
ter in  the  universe,  and  these  as  wide  as  the  poles  of 
the  heavens  asunder,  they  would  never  rest  until  they 
had  come  into  contact  and  union.  So  with  men,  whose 
hearts  have  been  renewed  by  the  spirit  of  God.  The 
more  conscious  they  become  of  the  new  life  in  them, 
the  deeper  is  their  longing  to  be  builded  together  with 
others  of  like  precious  faith.  If  there  were  but  one 
band  of  Christians  in  all  the  world,  any  soul  renewed 
by  grace,  though  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe,  woidd 
at  once  be  moved  to  traverse  seas  and  lands,  that  it 
might  be  with  them,  and  share  in  the  tender  com- 
munion which  they  have  with  their  ever-living  Head. 
When  Paul  had  passed  through  his  great  experience 
of  the  second  birth,  he  was  not  content  till  he  became 
a  member  of  the  little  primitive  church.  He  went  up 
to  Jerusalem,  where  he  had  been  a  fiery  persecutor, 
and  essayed  to  join  himself  unto  the  disciples.  But 
at  first  they  were  afraid  of  him,  and  would  not  receive 
him.  Yes,  remember,  all  ye  who  think  yourselves  re- 
buffed by  the  church  on  trying  to  enter  it ;  remember 
that  the  great  apostle  to  the  Gentiles  suffered  before 
you  in  precisely  that  way.  But  he  persevered.  The 
spirit  of  Christ  in  him  would  not  let  him  rest  till  he 
had  entered  into  the  fellowship  of  Christ's  body. 
Your  desire  to  be  in  that  fellowship,  and  your  persist- 
ence in  carrying  out  your  desire  despite  all  obstacles, 
is  one  of  the  sweetest  evidences  you  can  have  that 
Christ  has  indeed  been  formed  within  you.     Nor  can 


248  SERMONS. 

this  longing  for  the  society  of  Christians  cease  when 
once  you  have  formally  joined  yourself  to  them.  It 
is  a  fire  which  nothing  can  quench.  It  is  a  well  of 
water  springing  up  into  everlasting  life.  It  will  cause 
you  to  be  glad  with  David,  if  you  may  dvvell  forever 
in  the  Lord's  house.  It  wiU  bring  you,  not  only  to 
the  sanctuary  with  ever-willing  feet,  but  to  the  room 
for  social  conference  and  prayer.  The  exhortation  to 
Christians,  not  to  forsake  the  assembling  of  themselves 
together,  wiU  be  to  you  one  of  the  most  delightful  of 
the  divine  commands.  Though  there  be  but  two  or 
three  of  them,  yet  meeting,  as  they  do,  under  the  cove- 
nants and  in  the  name  of  Christ,  Clirist  is  in  the  midst 
of  them,  as  He  has  not  promised  to  be  with  any  self- 
isolated  disciple;  and  for  His  dear  sake,  if  for  no 
other  reason,  —  because  you  wish  to  be  where  He  is, 
and  feel  the  blessing  of  His  presence  in  your  soul, 
—  you  will  always  strive  to  make  one  of  the  little 
company. 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  CHRIST. 

Now  if  any  man  have  not  the  Spiiit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of  his.  — 
Romans  viii.  9. 

There  is  something  startling  in  the  comprehensive- 
ness of  these  words.  This  is  the  first  thing  to  be 
noticed.  No  discrimination  is  shown  in  favor  of  those 
who  wear  the  decent  covering  of  a  Christian  profes- 
sion ;  who  have  on  the  comely  garb  of  religion,  and 
submit  themselves  to  its  sacraments  and  ordinances. 
The  language  is  indiscriminately  spoken.  It  has  ref- 
erence to  those  inside,  no  less  than  to  those  outside,  of 
Christ's  visible  kingdom.  "  Any  man,"  —  you,  my 
Christian  brother,  or  I,  as  well  as  he  that  has  never 
accepted  the  seals  of  holy  fellowship,  we  who  study 
the  Christian  Scriptures,  who  claim  to  be  Christian 
households,  who  come  to  the  table  of  Christian  com- 
munion, the  managers  and  pillars  of  the  institutions 
of  the  Gospel.  These  religious  symbols  and  rites  and 
offices  make  no  difference ;  but  if  "  any  man  "  of  us 
"  have  not  the  Spirit  of  Christ,"  he  is  an  alien  and 
stranger  as  really  as  the  open  blasphemer.  We  may 
consider  therefore,  that,  for  this  time  at  least,  all  con- 
ventional barriers  —  of  religious  name  and  profession 
—  are  thrown  down.  The  apostolic  test  of  piety  comes 
through  aU  externals;  it  throws  out  church-member- 
ship, the  altar  of  consecration,  the  sacramental  cup, 
and  baptismal  water,  —  the  proprieties  of  religion, 
which  too  many  trust  in,  —  and,  reducing  us  aU  to  a 


250  SERMONS. 

common  level,  —  the  level  of  simple  manliood,  —  it 
declares  that  none  of  us  are  Christ's  who  have  not  a 
Christian  spirit.  But  not  only  are  these  words  com- 
prehensive, they  are  also  fair  and  reasonable.  The  ride 
of  acbneasurement  is  just,  natural,  almost  inevitable. 
The  branches  of  any  tree  are  full  of  the  same  sap 
which  flows  through  its  stem  ;  and  so  the  genuine 
disciple  is  animated  by  the  spirit  of  his  Master.  It 
follows  as  a  matter  of  course  —  almost  by  a  natural 
law  —  if  we  are  Christ's,  that  we  shall  come  up  to  the 
standard  here  presented.  Not  so  much  by  any  effort, 
as  by  our  own  sweet  and  spontaneous  will,  shall  we  do 
this.  The  connection  of  believers  with  Him  is  vital : 
He  and  they  constitute  one  organism,  —  compared  in 
Scripture  to  the  vine  with  its  branches,  and  to  the 
body  with  its  members.  Now  we  know,  in  regard  to 
these  instances,  that  a  single  life  pervades  the  entire 
structure.  As  is  the  tree,  so  are  the  branches.  Men 
do  not  gather  grapes  of  thorns,  nor  figs  of  thistles. 
No  one  ever  thought  of  disputing  that  the  same  life 
which  keeps  the  heart  a-beating,  gives  to  the  arm  its 
flexibility  and  vigor.  These  things  cannot  be  other- 
wise. And  for  the  same  reason  it  is  almost  needless, 
one  would  think,  to  declare  that  Christ's  people  have 
His  Spirit.  We  say  at  once,  "  there  is  nothing  strange 
in  that,  but  only  what  we  should  naturally  expect 
beforehand."  The  text  is  so  true  that  it  sounds  very 
much  like  a  truism.  Of  course  the  followers  of 
Christ  will  follow  Christ ;  of  course  if  men  are  Chris- 
tians they  are  Christians.  As  you  need  not  tell  us  that 
a  thorn-branch  never  grew  on  an  apple-tree,  and  as 
we  know  without  being  told  that  bitter  water  cannot 
flow  from  a  sweet  fountain ;  so  it  is  plain  enough, 
being  self-evident  and  after  the  analogy  of  nature, 


THE   SPIRIT  OF  CHRIST.  251 

that  those  who  have  not  the  Spirit  of  Christ  do  not 
belong  to  Christ.  A  man  woukl  try  in  vain  to  per- 
suade us  that  he  is  a  Frenchman,  if  he  cannot  speak 
the  French  language ;  or  that  he  is  fond  of  adventure, 
while  he  stays  carefully  at  home ;  or  that  he  is  a  stu- 
dent of  history,  if  he  have  no  knowledge  of  what  has 
taken  place  in  the  world ;  or  that  he  is  a  merchant,  if 
he  never  buys  and  sells  :  and  in  like  manner  it  is  im- 
possible for  a  man  to  persuade  his  brother-man  that 
he  is  a  Christian,  —  all  his  protestations  and  obser- 
vation of  forms  passing  for  nothing,  —  if  he  is  not 
moved  by  the  soul  of  Christianity ;  if  he  be  destitute 
of  that  spirit,  or  principle  of  conduct,  which  was  char- 
acteristic of  Christ.  We  sometimes  hear  it  said  of 
Napoleon,  that  he  was  the  modern  Alexander;  by 
which  is  meant  that  the  love  of  conquest  was  with 
them  both  the  master-passion.  If  we  should  hear  a 
man  called  the  American  Howard,  that  would  signify 
that  John  Howard's  philanthropic  spirit  animates  him. 
A  man  is  said  to  be  Ciceronian  when  he  writes  and 
speaks  in  the  style  of  Cicero ;  Baconian,  if  he  adopts 
Lord  Bacon's  method  of  investigating  truth :  and  so 
they  are  Christians  —  nor  can  any  others  be  properly 
thus  styled  —  who  show  in  their  lives  that  disposi- 
tion of  which  Christ  was  the  first  and  forever  the  most 
glorious  example. 

The  spirit  of  Christ  —  that  is,  the  steady  and  gov- 
erning purpose  which  He  embodied  in  His  Hfe  —  may 
be  uttered  in  a  single  word ;  it  was  self-sacrifice. 
Though  undoubtedly  others,  before  His  day,  had  been 
moved  by  this  spirit  in  some  faint  degree;  yet  it 
shows  so  transcendently  in  Him  that  they  sink  out  of 
sight  in  the  comparison,  as  the  stars  are  obscured  by 
the  Sim  at  noonday.     We  say  that  Luther  was  the 


252  SERMONS. 

founder  of  Protestantism,  and  Wesley  of  Methodism  ; 
and  so  we  say,  reverently  and  in  a  far  nobler  sense, 
that  Christ  was  the  founder  of  the  school  of  self- 
sacrifice. 

If,  tlien,  you  wish  to  know  whether  a  man  is  a 
Christian  or  not,  you  have  only  to  ascertain  whether 
or  not  he  possesses  this  quality.  It  is  the  distinctive 
mark  of  Christian  character,  the  principle  of  classi- 
fication, which  enables  us  everywhere  to  detect  God's 
people.  A  person  who  is  not  familiar  with  the  struc- 
ture of  plants  and  flowers  is  a^^t  to  classify  them 
according  to  certain  superficial  resemblances,  such 
as  color  and  fragrance ;  but  an  experienced  botanist, 
knowing  the  true  grounds  of  similarity  and  difference, 
often  makes  sad  havoc  among  our  hasty  generaliza- 
tions, —  separating  what  we  had  joined  together,  and 
tracing  an  essential  unity  where  we  saw  nothing  but 
diversity.  So  the  genuine  Christian  is  not  peculiar  by 
anything  superficial,  such  as  names  and  ceremonies. 
Where  we  fancy  there  is  great  uniformity,  looking 
only  on  the  appearance,  Christ  might  discover  real 
and  painful  differences.  We  must  go  through  reli- 
gious formalities,  —  creeds  and  professions  assented 
to  with  the  understanding,  all  mere  seeming,  —  and 
search  the  man's  life  for  this  quality  of  self-sacrifice. 
The  fact  of  membership  in  an  evangelical  church  does 
not  make  one  a  Christian,  if  he  be  destitute  of  this 
quality ;  and  whoever  possesses  it  in  its  true  and 
heavenly  type  is  a  Christian.  "  I  have  other  sheep, 
which  are  not  of  this  fold,"  is  Christ's  language  to  the 
narrow-hearted  disciple ;  as  the  terrible  words,  "  Not 
every  one  that  saith  unto  me  '  Lord,'  '  Lord,'  shaU 
enter  my  kingdom,"  are  what  He  says  to  the  presump- 
tuous disciple.     When  John  said  to   Him,  "  Master, 


THE   SPIRIT  OF   CHRIST.  253 

we  saw  one  casting  out  devils  in  Thy  name ;  and  we 
forbade  him,  for  he  followeth  not  us,"  the  answer  was, 
Forbid  him  not ;  he  that  is  not  against  us  is  for  us. 
The  sheep  and  goats  are  very  much  mingled  together 
in  this  world ;  the  wheat  and  tares  grow  in  the  same 
field,  and  often  so  much  alike  on  the  surface  that  it  is 
not  safe  for  us  to  try  to  distinguish  them ;  "  But  the 
Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  His."  His  own  Spirit 
—  the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  —  is  the  "  image  and  su- 
perscription." He  looks  through  all  outward  diversi- 
ties, or  uniformities,  for  this  secret  mark  of  disciple- 
ship  ;  which  was  His  own  grand  peculiarity,  as  it  must 
forever  be  the  one  distinguishing  element  in  Christian 
character. 

This  self-sacrifice,  this  mark  in  the  forehead  of 
every  true  believer,  has  three  elements,  —  the  intel- 
lectual, the  emotional,  the  executive  ;  and  if  either  of 
these  elements  be  wanting  in  it,  it  is  spurious.  (1)  The 
intellectual.  He  who  devotes  himself  must  do  this  for 
some  worthy  object.  There  is  no  merit  in  throwing 
one's  self  away.  Everything  in  the  history  of  Christ 
indicates  that  He,  before  deciding  to  offer  up  His  life 
on  Calvary,  took  a  calm  survey  of  the  circumstances. 
It  was  not  a  blind  determination :  His  resolution  to 
die  was  based  on  a  clear  understanding  of  the  good 
which  that  death  would  accomplish.  The  recovery  of 
the  lost  children  of  Adam,  opening  the  prison-doors 
that  a  captive  world  might  go  free,  the  means  for 
purifying  the  fallen  generations  of  men,  —  this  was  the 
great  result  which  the  Son  of  God  foresaw  that  He 
could  achieve  by  giving  His  life  a  ransom,  and  hence 
it  became  Him  not  to  shrink  from  the  mighty  offering. 
We  are  commanded  not  to  expose  ourselves  to  danger 
and  death  needlessly.     Any  superstitious  abuse  of  self 


254  SERMONS. 

—  such  as  the  papal  fasts  and  penances,  the  incurring 
of  pain  rashly  and  wantonly  —  is  not  pleasing,  but 
abhorrent,  in  the  sight  of  God.  There  is  reason  to 
believe  that  what  passes  current  for  self-sacrifice  often 
partakes  largely  of  the  nature  of  suicide.  He  who 
offers  up  himself  truly,  looks  forward  to  the  conse- 
quences of  his  offering.  He  anticipates,  after  delib- 
erate thought,  that  his  act  of  self-devotement  will 
glorify  God  and  benefit  the  world.  It  is  the  settled 
and  intelligent  conviction  that  his  suffering  will  in- 
crease the  general  welfare,  and  that  that  welfare  will 
not  be  secured  without  his  suffering,  which  first  moves 
him  to  the  sacrifice.  Curtius,  according  to  the  story, 
leaped  into  the  chasm  in  the  firm  persuasion  that  he 
should  thus  save  the  Roman  people.  Many  a  common 
soldier  has  made  his  name  glorious  by  devoting  him- 
seK  to  save  the  life  of  his  general.  In  every  such  act 
we  demand  this  intellectual  element,  —  the  foresight 
of  something  to  be  gained  which  is  worthy  of  the  sac- 
rifice. (2)  The  emotional  element.  This  is  essential 
to  the  genuine  spirit  of  self-sacrifice.  There  must  be 
a  real  sympathy  with  the  fallen  in  us,  or  we  shall  not 
come  down  from  our  high  positions  to  labor  amongst 
them.  He  who  has  no  pity  for  lost  men,  who  does 
not  feel  for  a  world  lying  in  wickedness,  can  never 
devote  himself  truly  to  the  work  of  missions.  Cold, 
impassible  natures,  men  or  women  who  can  look 
with  polite  placidity  on  the  unfortunate,  need  most 
of  all  to  have  their  hearts  developed.  Till  they  learn 
to  imagine  themselves  in  the  place  of  the  wretched, 
remembering  them  that  are  in  bonds  as  bound  with 
them,  and  weeping  with  them  that  weep  as  over  a 
common  sorrow,  the  widest  knowledge  of  this  poor 
world's  wants  will  not  fill  them  with   the   spirit   of 


TEE   SPIRIT  OF  CHRIST.  255 

Jesiis.  Only  as  they  feel  how  dreadful  a  thing  it  is 
to  be  a  sinner,  and  how  sad  a  thing  to  be  an  outcast 
from  Christian  fellowship,  —  their  souls  gushing  forth 
in  compassion  toward  the  fallen  and  lonely  and  help- 
less, full  of  susceptibility  and  tearful  tenderness, — 
only  as  they  thus  feel  for  and  with  the  miserable  may 
we  expect  to  see  them  overleaping  social  barriers, 
crucifying  even  innocent  tastes  and  prejudices,  and 
patiently  bearing  bluntness  and  insult  from  the  very 
persons  they  are  endeavoring  to  succor.  (3)  The 
executive  element.  Christ  not  only  saw  and  felt,  but 
acted.  And  we  shall  act  in  this  matter  of  seK-sac- 
rifice,  if  we  are  really  Christian  disciples.  As  the 
perception  stirs  the  emotion,  so  the  emotion  must 
move  the  will,  or  all  goes  for  nothing.  The  fig-tree 
was  green  and  covered  with  leaves ;  j^et  these  could 
not  save  it,  inasmuch  as  it  was  destitute  of  fruit,  from 
the  Saviour's  malediction.  And  so  we,  though  we 
know  and  sigh  over  the  woes  of  men,  have  not  the 
spirit  of  Christ  till  we  are  roused  to  appropriate 
action.  Our  di\dne  Friend  beheld  and  wept ;  yet  not 
content  with  this.  He  came  to  suffer  in  our  stead : 
herein  was  the  love,  the  crowning  act  and  manifes- 
tation of  the  sj^irit  of  self-sacrifice.  "  Show  me  thy 
faith  without  thy  works,  and  I  will  show  thee  my  faith 
by  my  works,"  said  an  apostle.  What  profit  is  it, 
though  you  say  unto  a  brother  or  sister,  "Go  your 
way,  be  warmed  and  filled,"  if  you  withhold  the 
needed  supply?  We  may  profess  great  admiration 
for  a  self-sacrificing  spirit,  and  say  that  w^e  love  it ; 
but  let  us  have  a  care  that  our  practice  does  not  belie 
our  words.  If  you  possess  the  spirit  of  Christ,  devot- 
ing yourself  as  He  devoted  Himself,  your  desire  to 
rescue  others  from  evil  will  not  evaporate  in  mere  pro- 


256  SERMONS, 

fessions.  If  you  cannot  suppress  the  fearful  thought 
that  possibly  you  are  not  Christ's,  if  you  would  be 
certain  that  the  quality  which  distinguishes  all  true 
disciples  is  yours,  be  very  careful  that  your  pity  for 
the  wretched  does  not  end  in  mere  sentiment ;  have 
that  readiness  to  be  offered  which  moves  the  will,  the 
feet,  and  the  hands  in  ways  of  suffering  for  others ; 
see  to  it  that  you  can  point  to  your  daily  walks,  —  to 
the  matter  and  manner  of  your  life,  —  in  the  humble 
certainty  that  a  steady  and  large  benevolence,  a 
patient  and  forbearing  love,  a  brotherly  kindness  and 
charity  —  more  persevering  the  more  it  is  misunder- 
stood, abused,  and  ungratefully  thwarted  —  are  mani- 
fest in  all  your  conduct. 

Now  this  analysis,  which  brings  before  us  the  crite- 
rion of  genuine  piety,  also  furnishes  a  test  of  certain 
deformities  of  religious  character.  That  large  class 
of  persons  who  are  easily  affected  by  descriptions  of 
woe  and  sin,  but  who  still  remain  inactive  and  passive, 
are  deficient  in  will ;  they  have  not  the  executive  ele- 
ment of  self-sacrifice.  The  sight  of  their  eyes  affects 
their  hearts,  but  does  not  waken  in  them  the  resolu- 
tion to  do  something.  Others  again,  who  are  eager 
to  devote  themselves,  but  who  rush  forward  blindly, 
not  pausing  to  think  whether  any  good  result  will  flow 
from  their  sacrifices,  show  by  this  conduct  that  the 
intellectual  element  is  sadly  wanting  in  them.  And 
others  still  —  who,  though  they  labor  much  and  wisely 
for  the  downtrodden,  yet  do  all  in  so  chilling  a  man- 
ner as  to  repel  even  by  their  charities  —  have  not 
enough  of  the  emotional  element.  Their  good  is  evil 
spoken  of,  and  almost  inefficacious,  because  not  bathed 
in  an  unaffected  and  brotherly  sympathy. 

The  glory  of  the  Christian  life,  which  we  have  now 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   CHRIST.  257 

summed  up  in  the  one  spirit  of  self -sacrifice,  lies  in  its 
voluntariness.  It  is  without  any  external  constraint, 
purely  and  forever  spontaneous.  We  come  not  to  the 
altar  reluctantly,  driven  forward  at  the  will  of  an- 
other, but  freely,  and  with  love  and  longing.  The  old 
Grecian  chief,  offering  up  his  beloved  child  on  the  eve 
of  his  departure  for  Troy  ;  the  citizens  of  Carthage 
leading  forth  the  three  hundred  maidens,  a  propitia- 
tion to  the  god  of  war  ;  Jephthah  devoting  his  daugh- 
ter after  the  victory  over  the  Ammonites  ;  Isaac  going 
up  to  the  top  of  Moriah,  and  permitting  himseK  to 
be  bound  and  laid  on  the  wood  by  his  father  Abra- 
ham, —  these  offerings  do  not  typify,  in  all  particulars, 
that  which  is  required  at  our  hands.  We  are  to  be 
the  priest  as  well  as  the  victim.  It  is  self-sacrifice. 
We  not  only  are  the  offering,  but  we  render  the  offer- 
ing. Christ  declares  that  no  man  took  His  life  from 
Him,  but  that  He  laid  it  down  of  Himself.  Such  is 
the  sj^irit  we  shall  manifest,  if  we  are  truly  His  dis- 
ciples. Our  sacrifice  may  not  be  the  same  as  His  in 
form,  but  the  motive  prompting  us  to  it  will  be  the 
same.  We  are  to  present  our  bodies  a  living  sacrifice 
for  the  same  reason  that  He  presented  His  an  atoning 
sacrifice ;  that  is,  that  God  may  be  glorified,  and  lost 
men  rescued,  through  our  suffering.  It  is  doubtful  if 
you  can  ever  be  in  the  circumstances  where  this  spirit 
will  not  become  you ;  and  it  is  the  nature  of  the  exi- 
gency that  must  determine  the  form  of  the  sacrifice. 
Your  sacrifice  may  be  to  exercise  patience  where  you 
are  in  haste  respecting  a  good  undertaking ;  to  labor 
hand-in-hand  with  bretlu-en  toward  whom  you  feel  a 
natural  antipathy ;  to  deny  yourself  the  pleasure  of  an 
angry  retort  when  slighted  or  insulted ;  to  conquer  a 
personal  taste,  and  put  yourself  in  contact  with  disagree- 


258  SERMONS. 

able  persons  for  their  good  and  the  honor  of  Christ's 
kingdom.  Such  as  these,  my  brethren,  are  our  crosses, 
our  Calvarys,  our  Gethsemanes.  And  as  the  blessed 
Lord  shrank  not  from  His  great  sacrifice,  but  took  up 
the  cross,  and  bore  it  away  without  the  gate,  and  there 
poured  out  His  soul  unto  death ;  so  we  must  cheer- 
fully make  these  sacrifices  of  convenience,  preference, 
or  whatever  else  we  are  called  to.  Otherwise  how 
dwelleth  the  spirit  of  Christ  in  us  ?  what  authority  or 
comfort  have  we  in  calling  ourselves  His  disciples? 
Though  this  grand  trait  of  the  Christian  appears  most 
striking  in  those  who  come  down  from  a  lofty  posi- 
tion, —  in  Henry  Martyn  sacrificing  a  university  life 
for  the  missionary  life,  in  John  Howard  going  from 
his  beautiful  home  into  the  prisoner's  cell,  —  surpass- 
ingly and  unutterably  resplendent  in  Him  who  stooped 
from  the  heavenly  glory  to  the  earthly  shame,  —  yet 
none  are  so  weak  or  lowly  but  that  the  same  excel- 
lence may  shine  in  their  character.  If  the  poor  and 
forgotten,  —  who  are  never  forgotten  in  the  great 
heart  of  hearts,  —  if  they  would  have  the  spirit  of 
Christ,  and  so  be  His,  they  must  crucify  their  envy 
and  discontent.  They  must  repress  the  impulse  to 
speak  against  their  more  fortunate  neighbors.  The 
disposition  to  criticise  ;  the  desire  to  receive  more  no- 
tice ;  the  temptation  to  make  harsh  remarks,  and  spread 
injurious  rumors,  and  be  shy  and  suspicious  and  dis- 
satisfied, —  these  are  the  offerings  required  of  not  a 
few,  which  they  must  bring  together  and  consume  on 
the  great  altar  of  burnt-sacrifice,  or  they  cannot  feel 
sure  that  they  are  Christ's  disciples.  If  you  think 
only  of  the  rich  and  educated  and  refined,  and  of  the 
sacrifice  demanded  from  them  for  your  sake,  while 
you  read  the  fearful  words  of  the  text,  then  beware 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   CHRIST.  259 

lest  the  judgment -day  show  that  you  have  not  the 
mind  of  Christ.  Those  evils  and  disadvantages  at 
which  so  many  fret  are  the  shapes  which  your  crowns 
of  thorns  and  humiliations  and  crosses  take  on ;  and 
to  wear  them,  and  submit  and  suffer,  and  toil  on  cheer- 
fidly,  in  such  a  way  as  to  show  the  spirit  of  Jesus,  is 
your  portion  —  often  a  sublime  part  —  in  the  carrying 
out  of  this  law  of  self-sacrifice. 

We  are  wont  to  speak  disparagingly  of  self,  —  its 
very  name  having  a  repulsive  sound,  —  as  a  thing 
wicked  and  monstrous,  which  ought  by  all  means  to 
be  put  down  and  bruised  and  trodden  into  the  dust. 
It  is  a  relief,  therefore,  and  a  pleasure,  to  find  one 
connection  in  which  this  miserable  thing  self  may  be 
transfigured  into  something  noble  and  beautiful.  It 
does  thus  appear  on  the  way  to  the  altar.  Only  pre- 
fix the  word  self  to  the  word  sacrifice,  and  straight- 
way there  is  no  grander  term  in  the  language.  We 
are  mean  and  contemptible  till  we  devote  ourselves. 
The  mount  of  offering  is  the  mount  of  our  transfigu- 
ration. The  heroes  of  history  —  those  whom  the  ages 
never  forget  —  are  just  those  who  have  obeyed  the 
holy  law  of  self-sacrifice.  This  is  the  spiritual  alchemy 
which  wakes  death  into  life ;  which  changes  base- 
ness into  honor,  mortality  into  immortality,  corruption 
into  that  which  is  incorruptible.  There  is  even  in  us, 
my  brethren,  something  which  the  angels  admire,  — 
and  which  is  above  price  in  God's  sight,  —  when  we 
go  forth  willingly  bearing  our  cross.  It  is  the  humilia- 
tion which  exalts  us,  the  shame  which  covers  us  with 
glory,  the  defeat  which  is  full  of  victory,  the  pain  and 
suffering  which  blossom  out  into  everlasting  blessed- 
ness. No  sooner  does  God  see  us  on  the  way  to  our 
Golgotha  than  He  is  drawn  to  our  side.     He  cometh 


260  SERMONS. 

with  His  Sou  to  abide  near  us.  The  prodigal  is 
clothed  with  garments  of  beauty.  That  which  was 
before  dark  and  loathsome  now  beams  with  a  heav- 
enly lustre.  The  victim,  who  is  at  the  same  time  the 
priest,  goes  to  the  place  of  sacrifice  crowned  with  gar- 
lands, and  escorted  by  angels  bearing  palm-branches. 
Once  he  tried  to  save  his  life,  and  thus  daily  he  lost 
it ;  but  now  he  is  willing  to  lose  it,  and  in  losing  it  he 
finds  it.  He  conquers  death  in  submitting  to  death. 
He  quenches  the  light  of  a  selfish  life  in  the  blood  of 
sacrifice,  and  immediately  he  reappears  in  the  life  of 
holiness,  —  transformed  from  the  earthly  to  the  heav- 
enly firmament,  to  shine  like  a  star,  and  in  unclouded 
brightness,  forever  and  ever. 

And  oh !  that  other  joy  hinted  at  in  the  text !  Not 
only  ennobled,  but  Christ's,  —  His  because  we  have 
His  Spirit ;  walking  in  white  because  we  are  worthy, 
and,  more  than  all  this,  walking  with  Christ;  hav- 
ing Him  for  our  companion  because  we  are  in  loving 
agreement  with  Him  !  His  to  lead,  —  His  to  defend, 
—  His  to  comfort  and  console,  —  His  to  instruct,  to 
enrich  in  all  spiritual  blessings,  to  exalt  and  glorify 
and  crown !  This  is  wonderful  riches !  an  inheritance 
present  and  everlasting !  an  ocean  of  blessedness 
which  we  cannot  compass  or  fathom  !  And  if  the 
glory  of  belonging  to  Christ  be  so  unspeakable,  who 
shall  describe  what  it  is  to  be  "  none  of  His  "  ?  Oh, 
my  hearer,  —  my  brother-man,  possibly  my  brother  in 
the  bonds  of  church -fellowship,  —  if  you  are  living 
unto  yourself,  if  you  refuse  to  bear  the  cross  and 
wear  the  crown  of  thorns,  let  them  come  in  such  duties 
as  they  may,  then  strive  to  comprehend,  so  far  as  you 
can,  what  it  must  be  to  have  no  portion  in  Christ. 
"None  of  His,"  in  the  hour  and  power  of  adversity; 


THE   SPIRIT  OF  CHRIST.  261 

"none  of  His,"  when  temptations  assail  you ;  "none 
of  His,"  while  your  heart  is  sinking  and  hope  almost 
expires ;  "  none  of  His,"  when  you  stand  with  your 
feet  in  the  cold  river,  looking  out  on  its  misty  bil- 
lows ;  "  none  of  His,"  in  the  hour  when  the  thi'one  of 
judgment  is  set  up,  and  the  children  of  men  are  gath- 
ered before  Him ;  "  none  of  His,"  when  He  shall  say 
to  them  on  the  right  hand,  "  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my 
Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  from  the 
foundation  of  the  world." 


PREACHERS,   AND  WHAT  THEY  SHOULD 
PREACH. 

The  prophet  that  hath  a  dream  let  him  tell  a  dream,  and  he  that 
hath  my  word  let  him  speak  my  word  faithfully.  What  is  the  chaff 
to  the  wheat  ?  saith  the  Lord.  —  Jeb.  xxiii.  28. 

I  AM  glad  tliat  I  can  to-day  come  before  you  bring- 
ing you  this  text  out  of  God's  word.  It  shows  you,  as 
the  whole  chapter  from  which  it  is  taken  shows,  that 
certain  religious  features  of  our  times,  which  are  much 
complained  of  by  some,  are  not  peculiar  to  the  present 
age.  There  were  human  dreams  and  theories  ming- 
ling themselves  with  the  divine  messages,  chaff  to- 
gether with  the  wheat,  in  the  days  of  Jeremiah  as 
truly  as  now.  Then  and  before  that  time,  and  ever 
since,  as  now  and  hereafter  until  our  Lord's  second 
coming,  the  mental  peculiarities  of  those  who  formu- 
late and  expound  and  preach  the  gospel  will  go  along 
together  with  the  gospel  itself,  mingling  more  or  less 
with  it,  and  at  times  even  claiming  that  they,  rather 
than  the  words  of  the  Bible  which  we  read,  are  the 
gospel.  But  neither  now  nor  in  the  future,  as  at  no 
time  in  the  past,  can  this  human  thinking  keep  the 
kingdom  of  God  from  advancing.  The  wheat  will 
yiekl  its  harvest  notwithstanding  the  chaff.  God  is 
willing  that  the  prophet  who  dreams  should  tell  his 
dream.  Yet  it  should  be  kept  by  itself,  as  a  thing  of 
no  special  value  or  authority.  The  grand  facts  of  His 
word,  as  they  stand  without  note  or  comment  on  the 
pages  of  revelation,  are  the  light  and  life  of  men.     So 


WHAT  PREACHERS  SHOULD  PREACH.    263 

long  as  these  divine  facts  are  clearly  distinguished 
from  all  theorizing,  are  preached  and  insisted  upon  as 
the  foundation  of  our  faith  and  practice,  it  matters 
little  how  often  we  change  our  theories,  or  whether 
we  have  any  theories,  concerning  them.  What  is 
the  chaff  to  the  wheat?  The  earthen  vessel  does  not 
trouble  us  while  we  find  the  heavenly  treasure.  Let 
the  human  speculation  be  what  it  may,  while  we  miss 
not  the  word  which  proceeds  out  of  the  mouth  of  God. 

Possibly  there  is  a  reference  in  Jeremiah  to  men  who 
knew  themselves  to  be  false  prophets,  who  did  not  be- 
lieve in  the  prophetic  office,  who  merely  made  use  of 
it  to  discredit  the  facts  of  the  divine  revelation.  If  so, 
they  would  correspond  to  those  in  our  day  who  are 
seeking  to  undermine  the  whole  fabric  of  the  Christian 
religion.  We  have  a  plenty  who  dream  and  theorize, 
and  who  tell  us  their  dreams  as  wonderful  inventions 
which  have  set  aside  Christianity  and  taken  its  place. 
We  shall  hardly  listen  to  them,  however,  while  they 
are  so  doubtful  about  what  they  say,  and  so  unable  to 
agree  among  themselves,  —  shall  hardly  adopt  their 
uncertainties  which  explain  nothing,  in  place  of  our 
Gospel  of  the  Son  of  God  which  goes  with  a  healing 
light  into  the  depths  of  our  consciousness,  explaining 
the  mysteries  of  the  soul,  and  meeting  and  satisfying 
our  most  sacred  desires. 

It  is  more  likely  that  the  dreamers  referred  to  in 
the  text  were  those  who  really  had  the  prophetic  gift 
and  believed  in  it,  but  who  took  the  messages  of  God 
and  shaped  them  according  to  their  own  views  and 
feelings  before  giving  them  to  the  people.  They  did 
not  preach  the  word  of  God,  that  is  to  say,  but  simply 
their  own  commentary  upon  it  or  thoughts  about  it. 
They  kept  God's  light  from  the  people,  and  gave  them 


264  SERMONS. 

the  light  of  their  human  wisdom  in  place  of  it.  Now 
that  class  of  persons  in  ancient  times  would  correspond 
to  those  in  our  day  who  take  the  Bible  and  theorize 
about  it  and  frame  its  truths  into  logical  systems,  and 
who  then  make  their  theories  and  systems  rather  than 
the  Bible  itself  the  standard  of  all  Christian  belief 
and  doctrine.  Many  of  these  persons,  it  should  in 
justice  to  them  be  said,  do  not  sink  the  divine  fact 
out  of  sight  in  the  human  theory  ;  they  keep  the  two 
wholly  separate  in  their  minds,  using  the  theory  among 
themselves  and  for  purely  intellectual  purposes,  but 
coming  to  the  simple  and  plain  fact  when  they  would 
tell  men  what  it  is  necessary  to  believe  and  do  in  order 
to  please  God.  There  are  theologians,  full  of  the  spirit 
of  Christ  and  His  gospel,  who  would  be  shocked  at  the 
idea  of  preaching  their  theology  as  a  religious  final- 
ity. They  feel  and  admit  that  their  theology  must  be 
judged  by  the  unvarnished  words  of  Scripture,  and 
they  preach  those  words  as  the  foundation  of  all  faith 
and  practice.  This  is  the  loyal  position  towards  the 
Bible  which  many  theorizers  in  religion  hold,  but  it  is 
by  no  means  held  by  them  all.  Men  naturally  have  a 
great  affection  and  esteem  for  what  they  have  them- 
selves thought  out.  It  is  according  to  human  nature 
that  the  thinking  to  which  one's  whole  life  is  devoted 
should  get  to  be  to  him  of  all  things  in  the  world  the 
most  important.  This  is  the  result  of  what  we  call 
professional  enthusiasm,  without  which  no  signal  suc- 
cess is  ever  achieved.  Every  young  person  should  feel 
that  his  daily  business  in  life  is  an  important  thing  in 
the  community,  or  he  will  not  put  his  whole  energy 
into  it.  So  the  author  or  the  poet,  having  published 
his  work  after  long  months  of  devoted  toil,  often  has 
a  regard  for  it  which  he  is  mortified  to  find  the  public 


WHAT  PREACHERS  SHOULD  PREACH.     265 

does  not  share.  So  the  artist,  finding  no  admirers  of 
his  pictures  or  statues,  takes  refuge  in  misanthropy. 
Such  is  the  tendency  of  men  in  whatever  they  do  with 
enthusiasm ;  and  those  who  theorize  about  the  teach- 
ings of  the  Bible  have  as  much  of  it  as  any  others. 
The  speculative  systems  which  they  have  framed  to 
meet  intellectual  wants,  and  which  are  not  for  our 
si3iritual  guidance  so  much  as  for  debate  and  con- 
troversy, come,  after  years  of  thinking,  to  be  very  dear 
to  them.  They  mingle  their  chaff  with  God's  wheat ; 
liide  the  wheat  in  the  chaff.  The  human  dream  gets 
so  mixed  with  the  divine  word  as  at  length  to  usurp 
its  place  in  the  thought  of  the  dreamer,  and  he  feels 
that  all  men  who  do  not  speak  his  shibboleths  are 
heretics,  and  ought  to  be  cast  out  of  the  church.  Such 
is  the  very  natural  origin  of  much  religious  persecu- 
tion, of  those  divisions  about  so-called  doctrinal  mat- 
ters which  always  have  and  will  yet,  we  know  not  how 
long,  distract  the  church.  These  human  theories  have 
grown  so  overshadowing  at  times,  and  have  so  wholly 
usurped  the  place  of  the  simple  gospel,  that  not  a  few 
good  men  have  seriously  questioned  whether  the  study 
of  technical  theology  be  not  on  the  w^hole  an  evil. 
Some  of  the  most  useful  Christians  of  our  times  can- 
not be  brought  to  regard  theological  schools  with  any 
complacency.  I  think  they  are  wrong,  yet  they  do  not 
speak  wholly  without  cause.  They  can  point  to  the  days 
when  there  were  no  such  schools,  and  show  that  those 
days  were  among  the  brightest  in  the  history  of  the 
church.  They  can  point  to  men  never  in  such  schools 
who  are  foremost  in  advancing  our  Lord's  kingdom. 
They  have  on  their  side  the  fact  that  many  candidates 
for  the  Christian  ministry  come  out  of  those  schools 
loaded  down  with  theory,  which  spoils  them  for  any 


266  SERMONS. 

effective  service  till  they  get  clear  of  it  and  learn 
to  make  the  plain  words  of  the  Bible  their  weapons. 
This  deliberate  and  intentional  exalting  of  human 
theory  into  the  place  of  divine  truth  is,  of  course,  not 
to  be  confounded  with  that  unconscious  tinge  of  his 
own  personality  which  every  one  must  give  to  what  he 
utters.  Though  you  and  I  should  teach  essentially 
the  same  thing,  yet  your  teaching  will  have  something 
of  you  in  it,  and  mine  will  have  something  of  me  in 
it ;  and  so  far  as  that  goes,  our  teaching  will  differ. 
I  believe  lawyers  say  that  no  two  witnesses  ever  yet 
testified  precisely  alike.  One  sees  the  same  fact  dif- 
ferently from  another.  There  is  this  unconscious  and 
necessary  variance  running  all  through  the  Bible.  It 
is  one  of  the  charms  of  the  volume,  and  a  testimony 
to  the  simple  honesty  of  the  writers.  The  peculiar- 
ities of  authorship  in  each  of  the  four  gospels  go  to 
prove  the  genuineness  of  them  all.  St.  Paul  repeatedly 
alludes  to  this  element  in  his  epistles,  and  intimates 
that  at  times  he  may  have  been  too  much  under  its 
iufluence.  He  tells  his  brethren  that  they  are  not 
bound  by  his  opinion  when  he  speaks  from  himself, 
but  only  so  far  as  he  speaks  from  the  Lord  Jesus  and 
from  God.  He  and  James  and  Peter  did  not  write 
precisely  alike  upon  some  of  the  great  themes  of  the 
gospel.  Modern  theorists,  who  are  at  swords'  points 
with  one  another,  have  tried  to  make  it  appear  that 
those  apostles  were  in  as  sharp  conflict  as  they  are. 
But  the  wish  was  father  to  the  thought,  and  they  have 
not  succeeded  in  their  profane  attempt.  Very  differ- 
ent from  the  bitter  strifes  and  debates,  in  which  they 
are  all  the  time  fiercely  anathematizing  one  another, 
were  those  unconscious  variations  of  statement  by  the 
inspired  apostles,  who  cared  little  for  their  own  refine- 


WHAT  PREACHERS   SHOULD  PREACH.     267 

ments  upon  the  gospel,  and  gave  themselves  heart  and 
soul  to  the  work  of  spreading  it  throughout  the  world. 
I  have  now  reached  a  point  in  my  remarks,  dear 
friends,  at  which  I  can  properly  say  something  which 
seems  to  me  very  important  to  be  said  at  the  present 
time.  I  fear  that  many  persons  among  us  are  getting 
very  wrong  impressions  in  regard  to  many  ministers 
and  other  teachers  of  religious  truth,  and  are  settling 
down  into  the  conclusion  that  there  is  not  much  real 
and  hearty  belief  of  the  Bible  anywhere.  No  impres- 
sion could  be  more  false.  I  believe  that  the  gospel, 
as  inspired  men  gave  it,  was  never  more  firmly  held 
or  faithfully  preached  than  now.  "  But  what  mean 
these  rumors  which  are  filling  the  air?"  perhaps  you 
ask.  It  is  said  that  many  doctrines  which  the  whole 
church  has  been  understood  to  hold  hitherto  are  now 
in  doubt,  and  that  the  men  who  gravely  doubt  them 
are  filling  our  most  prominent  Christian  pulpits  or 
chairs  of  instruction.  Dear  friends,  I  wish  to  put  in 
a  word  for  these  co-laborers  of  mine,  and  to  assure  you 
that  you  have  not  the  least  cause  to  be  disturbed  about 
the  foundations  of  the  truth.  "  Every  little  while," 
you  say,  "  some  student  from  the  theological  school  is 
found  so  loose  in  doctrinal  views  that  he  cannot  g^et  a 
license  to  preach  the  gospel,  or  some  pastor-elect  is 
rejected  by  an  ecclesiastical  council,  or  some  one  who 
is  publicly  branded  a  heretic  says  he  gets  a  great  many 
private  letters  and  words  of  approval  from  the  very 
party  of  those  who  denounce  him."  There  are  arti- 
cles in  the  newspapers,  and  magazines  and  reviews, 
which  broadly  intimate  that  the  writers  have  had  much 
talk  with  preachers,  and  that  congregations  would  be 
very  much  astonished  if  ministers  should  come  into 
their  pulpits   and  honestly  and  frankly  preach  just 


268  SERMONS. 

what  and  only  what  they  really  believe.  Now,  this 
sweeping  charge  of  hypocrisy,  concealment,  and  deceit 
in  the  pulpit  does  strike  us  at  first  view  as  indeed 
formidable.  But  I  do  not  think,  dear  friends,  that 
you  have  the  least  occasion  to  be  made  uneasy  by  it. 
I  think  it  can  all  exist,  and  be  very  easily  accounted 
for,  and  your  pastors  nevertheless  be  as  true  and  faith- 
ful preachers  of  the  gospel  as  the  church  has  ever  had. 
I  know  of  no  change  in  regard  to  the  gospel  among 
evangelical  ministers,  except  that  they  love  it  with  a 
more  intense  devotion,  and  with  a  stronger  purpose  to 
know  nothing  else,  the  longer  they  preach  it.  If  there 
has  been  any  change  among  them  in  regard  to  specula- 
tive or  theological  teachings,  I  believe  it  is  largely  due 
to  this  very  devotion.  They  are  learning  to  recoil 
from  that  whole  body  of  human  doctrine  which  threat- 
ens to  displace,  and  sometimes  has  displaced,  the  sav- 
ing words  of  Christ  and  His  apostles.  This  is  the  head 
and  front,  the  beginning  and  the  end,  of  their  offend- 
ing. They  do  not  think  as  much  of  theories  of  the 
gospel  and  speculations  about  it  as  they  once  did,  and 
they  are  ready  to  say  so  either  publicly  or  privately. 
And  certainly  this  is  no  reason  why  distrust  concern- 
ing them  should  be  sown  among  you,  as  though  they 
were  only  a  set  of  hypocrites  who  for  the  sake  of  their 
places  and  the  small  stipends  they  receive  are  teaching 
you  what  they  no  longer  believe.  They  never  before 
believed  what  they  teach  more  fully  and  earnestly  than 
they  now  do.  If  they  have  changed  in  any  of  their 
views,  that  change  has  not  carried  them  away  from 
but  nearer  to  the  gospel.  They  have  departed  to  the 
faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints,  not  from  it.  They 
are  thinking  more  of  the  divine  word  and  less  of  the 
human  dream;  more  of   the  wheat  and  less  of   the 


WHAT  PREACHERS  SHOULD  PREACH.     269 

chaff.  It  has  been  freely  charged,  for  instance,  that 
but  few  Christian  ministers  now  hold  the  Scriptural 
doctrine  of  retribution  for  sin.  But  I  believe  they 
were  never  more  eager  to  accept  just  what  the  Bible 
says  on  this  whole  subject,  and  abide  by  it,  than  now. 
It  is  not  the  Bible  which  they  refuse  to  accept,  but 
human  theories  born  of  philosophy  and  metaphysics. 
Scholastic  thinkers,  in  ages  of  fierce  religious  con- 
troversy, have  formulated  their  own  partial  and  dis- 
torted views  of  this  subject  into  standards  which  the 
hard-pressed  church  has  for  the  time  being  accepted. 
To  refuse  to  abide  by  those  extravagant  human  stand- 
ards is  a  very  different  thing  from  refusing  to  abide 
by  the  Bible.  I  think  you  will  all  agree  with  me  in 
the  statement  that  such  a  doctrine  of  retribution 
should  be  preached  to  the  wrong-doer  as  will  most 
tend  to  make  him  stop  his  wrong-doing ;  that  nothing 
should  be  said  to  him  about  his  future,  either  in  this 
life  or  that  to  come,  which  will  encourage  him  in  his 
evil  courses.  That  statement  you  are  all  ready  to 
accept ;  and  it  certainly  covers  everything  the  Bible 
has  to  say  on  the  subject,  however  it  may  disagree 
with  what  speculative  thinkers  and  polemics  have  said. 
Or  take  the  opposite  doctrine  of  grace.  It  is  charged 
that  ministers  do  not  hold  the  doctrine  of  gratuitous 
salvation,  sovereign,  foreordained,  wrought  out  in  ful- 
fillment of  an  eternal  decree,  regardless  of  merit  or 
character  in  the  persons  saved.  Well,  where  is  any 
such  doctrine  of  grace  as  that,  with  no  counterbal- 
ancing doctrine,  taught  in  the  Bible  ?  To  hesitate  to 
accept  it  is  not  to  go  back  from  Christ,  but  go  back 
to  Him.  If  I  should  say  that  every  man,  however 
good,  still  needs  to  be  a  disciple  of  Christ,  and  that 
every  man,  however  bad,  is  sure  to  be  saved  if  he  fully 


270  -  SERMONS. 

and  heartily  trusts  in  a  crucified  Redeemer,  you  all 
could  admit  such  a  statement ;  but  that  is  substantially 
the  Bible  doctrine  of  free  grace.  Admit,  as  you 
must,  that  nothing  should  be  said  to  the  sinner  to 
encourage  him  in  his  sin,  and  everything  to  the  be- 
liever to  encourage  him  in  his  believing,  and  you 
admit  the  essence  of  all  the  Bible  has  to  say  on  this 
solemn  twofold  subject  of  retribution  and  redemption. 
Now  what  your  acquaintance  may  be  I  know  not,  but 
my  own  intercourse  with  Christ's  ministers  has  assured 
me  that  these  two  doctrines,  or  rather  this  double  doc- 
trine, this  great  truth  of  truths  in  the  whole  Bible, 
was  never  more  firmly  held  or  faithfully  preached  than 
at  present.  Thus  I  might  go  on  through  the  whole 
list  of  doctrines  which  the  church  of  Christ  is  sup- 
posed to  hold.  Not  one  of  them,  so  far  as  I  have 
found,  has  been  given  up  in  its  Bible  form,  at  least  by 
the  ministers  of  our  own  religious  order  and  faith.  I 
think  you  will  find  them  all  heartily  believed  and 
faithfully  preached,  wherever  you  find  religious  teach- 
ers who  hold  that  the  Bible,  the  whole  Bible  and  noth- 
ing else,  is  the  life  and  light  of  men.  And  the  min- 
isters of  to-day,  in  taking  this  position,  do  but  place 
themselves  where  the  early  New  England  churclies 
stood ;  for  in  their  famous  Confession  of  1680  is  this 
golden  article :  "  The  supreme  judge,  by  which  all  con- 
troversies of  religion  are  to  be  determined,  and  all 
decrees  of  councils,  opinions  of  ancient  writers,  doc- 
trines of  men  and  private  spirits  are  to  be  examined, 
and  in  whose  sentence  we  are  to  rest,  can  be  no  other 
but  the  Holy  Scripture  delivered  by  the  Spirit,  into 
which  Scripture  so  dehvered  our  faith  is  finally  re- 
solved." No,  my  dear  friends,  you  who  are  neglect- 
ing your  personal  duty  on  the  whole  subject  of  reli- 


WHAT  PREACHERS   SHOULD  PREACH.      271 

gion,  you  can  find  nothing  among  ministers  of  the 
gospel  in  our  evangelical  churches  to  encourage  you 
in  such  neglect.  They  do  not  doubt;  they  do  not 
hesitate  ;  they  are  not  uncertain.  They  will  all  say  to 
you,  as  St.  Paul  said  to  the  men  of  his  day,  "  I  know 
whom  I  have  believed."  If  there  be  any  exceptions, 
they  are  the  eccentric,  the  weak,  the  hare-brained, 
whose  opinion  on  this  subject  should  have  no  weight 
with  you,  as  it  would  have  none  on  any  other  matter 
of  importance. 

Some  of  the  sublimest  and  most  awful  truths  of 
the  Bible  are  not  so  much  taught  in  it  as  taken  for 
granted.  The  existence  of  God,  the  immortality  of 
the  soul,  the  fact  of  moral  obligation,  human  sinful- 
ness, and  the  need  of  a  ransom  in  order  to  escape 
punislmient  for  sin,  are  all  truths  of  natural  religion. 
They  are  written  on  our  hearts.  We  bring  them  with 
us  into  life.  We  should  believe  in  them  thouo-h  we 
had  never  heard  of  Cln-ist  and  His  salvation.  The 
concejitions  which  many  tribes  have  of  these  truths 
are  very  vague,  owing  to  long  centuries  of  ignorance 
and  superstition  and  debasing  habits  of  life.  But 
though  they  only  slumber  in  the  soul,  and  fill  it  with 
frightful  or  fantastic  dreams,  they  are  never  wholly 
absent  from  it.  They  are  "  truths  which  wake  to  per- 
ish never."  Our  blessed  Lord,  and  His  inspired  ser- 
vants both  before  and  after  Him,  pour  a  fresh  light 
in  among  these  truths.  They  bring  them  out  of  the 
confusion  and  darkness  in  our  own  minds,  and  set 
them  clearly  before  us  in  forms  which  the  highest  rea- 
son accepts.  And  not  only  do  they  thus  deal  with 
these  grand  primal  truths  which  they  find  already  in 
us,  but  they  bring  others  not  in  us,  —  truths  more 
wonderful,  more  majestic,  which  we  do  not  naturally 


272  SERMONS. 

know,  and  but  for  which  those  wliich  we  do  know 
would  be  to  us  an  inheritance  of  anguish  and  despair. 
What  can  be  more  terrible  than  to  be  forced  to  be- 
lieve in  a  holy  God  whom  we  cannot  escape,  and  with 
whom  we  are  wholly  unfitted  to  commune?  What 
more  terrible  than  to  know  that  we  are  immortal, 
while  we  feel  within  us  the  gnawing  of  the  worm  which 
also  never  dies?  What  more  terrible  than  to  find 
that  we  are  sinners,  and  be  left  with  no  knowledge  of 
the  forgiveness  of  sin  ?  What  more  terrible  than  the 
fact  of  moral  obligation,  while  our  conscience  is  all 
the  time  telling  us  that  we  fail  to  heed  it  as  we  should  ? 
You  will  be  ready  enough  to  accept  the  atoning  cross, 
and  the  washing  of  regeneration,  and  the  life  of  God 
in  the  soul  which  is  by  the  faith  of  Jesus  Christ,  when 
you  once  find  yourself  standing  face  to  face  with  all 
the  secrets  of  your  own  heart.  It  is  the  beliefs  which 
you  already  have  which  destroy ;  it  is  the  truths  which 
our  Lord  Jesus  brings  which  comfort,  which  give  hope, 
which  deliver  and  save.  All  these  truths,  both  those 
which  you  have  and  those  which  you  need,  were,  I 
assure  you,  never  more  generally  and  fervently  held 
than  now.  Never  before  as  at  the  present  day  do  men 
go  against  the  deep  convictions,  not  only  of  the  min- 
isters of  the  gospel,  but  of  all  Christendom,  who  are 
unwilling  to  come  after  our  glorious  Redeemer  and  be 
His  disciples. 

An  adequate  religious  creed,  such  as  all  men  every- 
where stand  in  need  of,  and  which  should  be  con- 
stantly preached,  I  hold  to  be  one  which  teaches  that 
we  are  by  nature  the  children  of  God,  made  such  by 
the  breathing  of  His  spirit  into  man  at  the  beginning ; 
which  teaches  that  this  divine  nature  in  us  has  gone 
away  from  God  into  bondage  to  the  lower  nature,  and 


WHAT  PREACHERS  SHOULD  PREACH.      273 

is  living  a  life  of  death  in  worldliness  and  sin,  where 
it  must  forever  feel  the  pains  of  death  if  it  be  not 
delivered  back  into  its  original  life  and  freedom  ;  a 
creed  which  teaches  that  the  cross  of  Calvary  stands 
between  the  believing  sinner  and  any  sense  of  ill- 
desert  which  he  may  have ;  which  teaches  that  Jesus 
Christ  was  very  God  in  such  a  sense  that  we  need  not 
fear  to  trust  our  whole  spiritual  destiny  for  time  and 
eternity  in  His  hands.  The  adequate  creed,  the 
blessed,  undistorted  theology  of  the  Bible,  never  more 
held  and  preached  than  now,  teaches  that  men  may, 
by  loving  and  serving  their  glorified  Saviour,  have 
spiritual  life,  and  strength  and  power  to  live  godly 
lives  in  Him,  given  unto  them ;  it  teaches  that,  deny- 
ing worldly  lusts,  we  should  live  righteously  in  the 
world ;  it  teaches  that,  ceasing  any  longer  to  try  to 
settle  questions  which  are  too  high  for  us,  we  should 
be  holy  and  harmless,  separate  from  sinners,  looking 
for  our  Lord's  glorious  coming,  and  struggling  to 
spread  His  kingdom  of  peace  and  joy  throughout  the 
world.  This  creed,  and  the  truths  and  lessons  divinely 
connected  with  it,  or  which  naturally  grow  out  of  it, 
is  what  neither  you  nor  I,  dear  friends,  should  ever 
turn  away  from.  It  is  our  sheet-anchor  amid  the 
rocks  and  shoals  of  time.  It  is  the  hand  of  our  God 
let  down  to  us,  and  steadying  us  forward  while  we 
trustingly  hold  to  it  along  the  Alpine  paths  in  our 
journey.  You  know  how  the  Bible  speaks  of  the 
terrors  of  death.  But  what,  as  it  also  shows,  are  the 
terrors  of  death  to  the  terrors  of  life?  Let  life  be 
shorn  of  its  terrors,  and  death  will  have  no  terrors ; 
it  will  be  an  angel  of  light  welcoming  us  into  ever- 
lasting peace.  Life  throws  forward,  out  of  its  own 
mystery  of  evil,  that  shadow  which  we  misname  the 


274  SERMONS. 

night  of  death.  It  is  terrible  to  live,  to  be  the  child 
of  God,  to  be  immortal  and  full  of  divine  possibilities, 
to  walk  the  narrow  and  slippery  causeway  of  time,  to 
see  the  hideous  faces  and  forms  of  temptation  rising 
up  towards  us  out  of  the  great  deep  on  either  side ; 
to  stumble,  to  slip,  to  fall  is  so  easy ;  it  is  so  easy  to 
be  startled  and  affrighted,  to  make  a  misstep,  to  go 
over  on  one  side  or  the  other  and  be  forever  swallowed 
up.  God  forbid,  dear  friends,  that  any  of  us  should 
ever  be  found  walking  in  this  demon-thronged  path 
alone,  or  attended  only  by  the  devices  and  specula- 
tions of  our  fellow-men !  There  is  but  One  who  can 
guide  us  aright.  There  is  but  One  who  can  hold  us 
up.  What  is  the  chaff  to  the  wheat  ?  Believe  on  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved. 


RELIGIOUS  CREEDS. 

Hold  fast  the  form  of  sound  words,  which  thou  hast  heard  of  me, 
in  faith  and  love  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus.  —  2  Tim.  i.  13. 

Do  these  words  refer  to  a  brief  summary  of  Chris- 
tian doctrine  which  was  in  existence  in  the  time  of 
the  apostles?  It  is  very  natural  to  suppose  that 
they  do.  The  apostles  could  hardly  succeed  in  their 
efforts  to  build  up  churches  without  such  a  summary 
of  the  doctrines  which  they  taught.  What  they 
taught  was  new  and  strange  to  their  hearers,  nor 
could  they  remain  long  in  person  with  any  of  the 
churches  which  they  founded.  They  were  going  from 
city  to  city.  In  their  long  absences,  having  com- 
mitted a  church  to  the  care  of  some  wise  and  prudent 
man  styled  a  bishop  or  overseer,  it  is  but  reason- 
able to  presume  that  they  would  leave  behind  them, 
for  the  guidance  of  the  church  and  its  pastor,  a  clear 
statement  of  the  truths  of  the  gospel.  How  else 
could  they  be  sure  that  the  way  of  salvation  in  Christ 
would  be  properly  taught  ?  or  that  all  the  churches, 
in  various  parts  of  the  world,  would  be  essentially  one 
in  doctrine?  We  can  hardly  avoid  the  conclusion 
that  there  was  something,  in  all  the  churches  which 
they  gathered,  answering  to  what  is  now  called  a 
church  creed.  And  admitting  that  there  was  such 
a  creed  for  the  use  of  the  church  at  Ephesus,  we 
readily  see  the  reference  of  the  apostle  when  he  ex- 
horts  Timothy   to    ''hold    fast   the   form   of    sound 


276  SERMONS. 

words."  The  existence  of  a  creed,  either  written  or 
committed  to  memory,  readily  accounts  for  other 
scriptures  besides  our  text.  In  the  First  Epistle  to 
Timothy,  St.  Paul  denounces  a  class  of  teachers  who 
"  consent  not  to  wholesome  words,  even  the  words  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  to  the  doctrine  which  is 
according  to  godliness.  And  in  the  fourth  chapter 
of  the  Second  Epistle  he  rebukes  those  hearers  of  the 
gospel  who  will  not  endure  sound  doctrine,  but  after 
their  own  lusts  heap  to  themselves  teachers,  having 
itching  ears ;  who  turn  away  from  the  truth,  and  are 
turned  unto  fables.  How  could  he  refer  to  heresies 
at  Corinth  and  among  the  Galatians,  or  how  could 
Peter  denounce  those  who  bring  in  "  damnable  here- 
sies," if  there  were  no  fixed  standard  by  which  it 
might  be  known  what  heresy  was  ?  These  are  but  a 
few  of  the  passages  which  seem  to  take  for  granted 
the  existence  of  such  a  standard.  And  though  no 
separate  creed-form,  unmistakably  drawn  up  by  the 
apostles,  has  come  down  to  us,  yet  there  are  several 
passages  in  the  epistles  which  read  very  much  like  a 
creed,  —  brief  and  clear  statements  of  the  great  truths 
which  Christ  and  his  apostles  taught.  A  creed  which 
is  simply  Christian  and  not  sectarian  is  one  contain- 
ing facts  and  truths  held  in  common  by  all  Christ's 
followers.  Apart  from  the  Bible,  which  is  itself  a 
creed  in  a  certain  large  sense,  the  nearest  approach 
we  have  to  an  unsectarian  creed  is  perhaps  the  Apos- 
tles' Creed,  so  called,  though  this  is  open  to  objection, 
as  I  may  show  further  on.  Our  forefathers  here  in 
Boston,  who  drew  up  the  creed  still  preserved  in  this 
church,  seem  to  have  thought  they  were  following  the 
example  of  the  apostles,  and  even  of  Christ,  in  what 
they  did  ;  for  they  say,  in  the  preface  to  their  work, 


RELIGIOUS   CREEDS.  277 

"  The  Lord  Jesus  Chi-ist  witnessed  a  good  confession 
at  the  time  when  he  said,  To  this  end  was  I  born,  and 
for  this  cause  came  I  into  the  world,  that  I  should 
bear  witness  to  the  truth.  And  He  taketh  notice  of  it, 
to  the  high  praise  and  commendation  of  the  church  in 
Pergamos,  that  they  held  fast  His  name  and  had  not 
denied  His  faith.'  We  find  how  ready  the  apostle 
was  to  make  a  confession  of  his  faith,  though  for  that 
hopes  sake  he  was  accused  and  put  in  chains." 

If  asked  what  the  truth  was  to  which  Christ  wit- 
nessed, we  may  reply  that  evidently  the  great  thing 
which  He  confessed  was,  that  He  was  the  appointed 
Saviour  of  the  world.  Nothing  could  tempt  Him  to 
deny  that  He  was  the  Son  of  God,  and  He  everywhere 
insisted  that  there  was  salvation  only  for  those  who 
were  His  disciples.  This  was  substantially  His  confes- 
sion in  the  synagogue,  when  He  read  from  the  prophet 
Isaiah,  and  said,  "  To-day  is  this  scripture  fulfilled  in 
your  ears."  As  John  the  Baptist  denied  not,  but  con- 
fessed, saying,  "  I  am  not  the  Christ,"  and  pointed  to 
Christ,  saying,  "  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,"  so  Christ 
Himself  confessed,  saying,  "  I  am  the  Way,  the  Truth 
and  the  Life  ;  my  Father  and  I  are  one ;  my  Father 
hath  sent  me  into  the  world,  that  the  world  through 
me  miofht  be  saved  ;  he  that  believeth  on  the  Son  hath 
everlasting  life,  but  he  that  believeth  not  on  the  Son 
shall  not  see  life." 

The  nearest  approach  to  this  confession,  which  was 
our  Lord's  faith  concerning  HimseK,  is  the  declara- 
tion of  Peter,  "  Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the 
livino-  God."  This  creed  or  confession  shows  us  what 
Christ  resfarded  as  the  doctrinal  basis  of  His  church  ; 
for  He  said  to  Peter,  "  Upon  this  rock  will  I  build  my 
church,  and  the  gates  of  heU  shall  not  prevail  against 


278  SERMONS. 

it.'*  The  confession  of  Christ  as  a  divine  Saviour 
seems  to  have  been  the  condition,  and  so  far  as  ap- 
pears almost  the  only  condition,  of  membership  in 
His  church  throughout  the  apostolic  times.  The 
Ethiopian  whom  Philip  baptized  said,  "  I  believe  that 
Jesus  Christ  is  the  Son  of  God."  When  the  jailer 
at  Phihppi  asked  what  he  should  do  to  be  saved,  the 
reply  was,  "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
thou  shalt  be  saved."  As  a  full  faith  in  Christ  in- 
volved belief  in  the  fact  of  His  resurrection,  this  fact 
came  gradually  to  be  added.  Thus  in  the  tenth  of 
Romans,  in  a  passage  that  reads  very  much  like  a 
creed-form,  St.  Paul  says,  "  If  thou  shalt  confess  with 
thy  mouth  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  shalt  believe  in  thine 
heart  that  God  raised  Him  from  the  dead,  thou  shalt 
be  saved."  The  Jewish  portion  of  the  church  tried 
for  a  time  to  add  more  or  less  of  their  own  ritual 
to  this  confession.  But  at  a  general  council  of  the 
church  held  in  Jerusalem  it  was  decided,  while  they 
were  left  free  to  practice  their  Mosaic  rites,  that  no 
such  burden  should  be  laid  on  the  Gentiles.  The 
Pauline  doctrine  of  faith  in  Christ  was  declared  to  be 
enough  for  them,  provided  they  would  abstain  from 
idolatry  and  certain  other  pagan  usages.  The  faith 
or  doctrine  which  the  apostles  required  all  Christians 
to  accept  was  sometimes  called  the  mystery.  Hence 
we  read  in  one  place,  "  Great  is  the  mystery  of  godli- 
ness :  God  was  manifest  in  the  flesh,  justified  in  the 
Spirit,  seen  of  angels,  preached  unto  the  Gentiles,  be- 
lieved on  in  the  world,  received  up  into  glory." 

These  words,  in  their  thought  and  their  structure, 
bear  a  resemblance  to  the  Apostles'  Creed,  so  called, 
—  a  confession  which  has  been  brought  to  your  notice 
for  a  few  Sabbaths  past.     Some  Christian  scholars 


RELIGIOUS   CREEDS.  279 

hold  that  this  creed  was  drawn  up  by  the  apostles 
themselves,  whence  its  name.  But  I  do  not  find  in  it 
this  inspired  authority,  at  least  in  its  present  form. 
Additions  were  certainly  made  to  it  several  centuries 
after  the  death  of  the  apostles ;  and  its  name  is  of 
small  historical  importance,  since  this  might  have  been 
first  given  it  long  after  it  had  begun  to  be  used.  But 
it  is  a  remarkably  scriptural  creed,  and  remarkably 
comprehensive.  Even  those  phrases  in  it  which  some 
of  us  are  now  a  little  slow  to  accept,  recall  certain  words 
of  the  Bible.  This  creed  is  found,  in  its  earliest  forms, 
in  the  writings  of  Irenaeus  and  Tertullian,  who  speak 
of  it  as  a  summary  of  Christian  doctrine  well  known  in 
their  day.  They  lived  in  the  next  century  after  the 
apostles,  were  personally  acquainted  with  those  who  had 
seen  the  beloved  disciple  John  ;  and  it  is  certain,  there- 
fore, that  this  creed,  in  its  most  ancient  forms,  is  more 
than  fifteen  hundred  years  old.  It  was  in  use  among 
the  churches  before  the  books  of  the  Bible  were  gath- 
ered into  a  single  canonical  volume.  Tertullian  and 
Irenaeus  do  not  give  it  in  precisely  the  same  words. 
Its  phraseology  was  changed  by  different  writers. 
But  during  the  fourth  century  it  took  the  form  which 
it  now  has,  with  certain  exceptions  which  I  will  note. 
The  phrase,  "  He  descended  into  hell,"  is  not  in  it ; 
and  instead  of  saying,  '^  I  believe  in  the  holy  Catholic 
Church,  the  Communion  of  Saints,"  it  says  simply,  "  I 
believe  in  the  holy  church."  It  says,  "  I  believe  in 
the  resurrection  of  the  body,"  but  does  not  add  what 
we  now  have,  "and  the  life  everlasting."  This  last 
phrase  we  all  no  doubt  consider  a  great  improvement, 
though,  with  the  others  referred  to,  it  was  added 
several  centuries  later.  We  are  glad  to  say  that  we 
believe  in  "  the  life  everlasting ;  "  and  I  see  not  why 


280  SERMONS. 

we  should  hesitate  to  say  that  we  believe  in  "  the  res- 
urrection of  the  body."  To  deny  that  doctrine  is  to 
])ut  ourselves  against  the  obvious  import  of  Paul's 
writings  on  the  subject.  He  declares  that  Christ,  in 
rising  from  the  dead,  became  the  first-fruits  of  them 
that  sleep  in  Him ;  and  we  are  so  identified  with  Him 
that  if  we  say,  "  our  bodies  rise  not,"  we  deny  His 
resurrection.  When  our  minds  are  troubled  by  sci- 
entific doubts,  or  what  seem  to  us  natural  impossibili- 
ties in  the  way  of  this  doctrine,  let  us  remember  that 
nothing  is  too  hard  for  God.  All  is  easy  in  view  of 
His  omnipotence.  We  may  not  know  yet  just  what 
the  body  is  to  which  Paul  refers ;  and  at  any  rate  we 
can  always  say  to  the  doubter,  as  he  said  to  king 
Agrippa,  "  Why  should  it  be  thought  a  thing  incredi- 
ble with  you,  that  God  should  raise  the  dead?  " 

So  also  the  phrase,  "  He  descended  into  hell,"  though 
easily  misunderstood,  is  not  unscriptural.  The  word 
"  hell "  here  does  not  refer  to  that  place  of  punish- 
ment which  is  the  abode  of  the  devil  and  his  angels, 
but  to  the  unseen  world  into  which  all  depart,  whether 
good  or  bad,  when  they  quit  the  body.  It  is  not  a 
place  of  banishment  from  God's  presence,  for  the 
Psalmist  says,  "  If  I  make  my  bed  in  hell,  thou  art 
there."  Christ's  spirit  might  be  in  this  common  realm 
of  aU  the  dead,  and  yet  He  might  say  with  literal 
truth  to  the  thief  on  the  cross,  "  This  day  shalt  thou 
be  with  me  in  Paradise."  We  should  never  forget, 
when  we  read  such  texts  as  these,  that  the  attribute 
of  omnipresence  belongs  to  Christ.  The  Bible  accom- 
modates itself  to  our  finite  thought  when  it  speaks  of 
Him  as  descending,  or  as  ascending  up  into  heaven. 
We  cannot  go  from  His  presence.  If  Christ  himself 
says  to  God,  as  represented  in  the  Messianic  psalm 


RELIGIOUS   CREEDS.  281 

quoted  by  Peter  at  the  time  of  Pentecost,  "Thou 
wilt  not  leave  my  soul  in  hell ; "  and  if,  in  his  first 
epistle,  he  says  that  Christ,  though  put  to  death 
in  the  flesh,  was  quickened  in  spirit,  and  went  and 
preached  unto  the  spirits  in  prison,  we  certainly  ought 
not  to  stumble  at  the  words  in  the  creed.  Yet  I  am 
free  to  say  that  I  wish  the  words  were  not  there ;  for 
we  do  not  always  have  their  scriptural  meaning  before 
us  when  we  read  them,  but  are  misled  by  certain  false 
views  which  cause  them  to  make  a  wrong  impression. 
Not  only  did  the  most  ancient  form  of  the  creed 
lack  this  objectionable  phrase,  but  it  said,  "  I  believe 
in  the  holy  church,"  instead  of  saying,  as  we  now  do, 
"  the  holy  Catholic  church."  There  is  but  one  church, 
Christ's  mystical  body,  the  whole  company  of  true  be- 
lievers in  all  the  world  and  throughout  all  time,  of 
whatever  name.  It  is  indeed  the  Catholic  Church; 
that  is,  the  church  of  the  whole.  It  is  not  Papal,  it 
is  not  Episcopal,  it  is  not  Presbyterian,  it  is  not  Con- 
gregational. It  is  catholic,  the  communion  of  saints, 
the  one  mighty  fellowship  in  Christ  of  all  those  who 
believe  on  His  name.  But  the  word  "  Catholic  "  has 
a  conventional  use,  by  which  it  means  simply  "  Papal 
or  Romish  "  to  many  minds.  We  are  so  inclined  to 
give  in  to  this  false  application  of  the  word,  thereby 
favoring  errors  which  in  our  hearts  we  abhor,  that  I 
should  wish  to  go  back  to  the  ancient  form  of  the 
creed,  dropping  from  it  this  ambiguous  word,  if  we 
were  to  have  it  in  permanent  use.  With  these  abate- 
ments, the  Apostles'  Creed  is  truly  a  marvelous  sum- 
mary of  the  things  most  commonly  believed  among  us. 
It  is  grand  in  its  simple  diction,  and  in  the  stately 
rhythm  of  its  sentences.  It  is  meUow  with  the  light 
of  fifteen  centuries.     It  is  a  noble  confession  wliich 


282  SERMONS. 

every  true  believer  is  ready  to  make,  and  which  we 
all  should  be  glad  to  know  from  our  earliest  years. 

I  will  not  here  detain  you  to  speak  at  length  of 
other  creeds.  You  know  what  the  most  important  of 
them  are.  There  is  the  Nicene  Creed,  —  sometimes 
called  the  Athanasian,  because  it  was  largely  the 
work  of  Athanasius.  This  creed  was  adopted  by  a 
council  of  the  church  at  Nicsea,  and  afterwards  con- 
firmed and  more  particularly  defined  by  a  council  at 
Constantinople,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  fourth  cen- 
tury. It  continued  to  be  the  doctrinal  basis  of  the 
church  until  the  time  of  Luther.  It  was  aimed  against 
the  heresy  of  Arianism,  and  affirms  with  special  em- 
phasis the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  and  the  supreme 
divinity  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The  creeds  at 
the  time  of  the  Reformation,  which  were  elaborated  at 
great  length,  reaffirmed  those  which  had  gone  before, 
besides  uttering  strong  protests  against  the  errors  of 
the  Papal  church.  We  know  the  substance  of  these 
creeds  chiefly  through  the  Westminster  Confession,  — 
more  studied  a  century  ago  than  now.  The  Boston 
Confession,  which  was  adopted  in  1680,  and  which  is 
the  doctrinal  basis  of  this  church,  may  be  regarded  as 
one  of  the  historic  creeds  of  the  Protestant  churches. 

It  is  common  in  these  days  to  hear  a  great  deal 
said  against  the  use  of  creeds.  But  some  of  you  have 
seen  during  the  last  fifty  years,  and  we  all  see  about 
us  to-day,  how  swift  the  descent  to  religious  indiffer- 
ence and  to  open  infidelity  is,  where  positive  state- 
ments of  Christian  doctrine  are  neglected. 

1.  Such  creeds  are  a  safeguard  against  error. 
Having  learned  them  in  early  childhood,  and  knowing 
that  they  contain  the  substance  of  the  gospel,  we  are 
not  deceived  by  new  forms  of  error  constantly  spring- 


RELIGIOUS  CREEDS.  283 

ing  up  around  us.  Theories  claiming  to  be  the  gos- 
pel, but  really  opposed  to  it,  do  not  mislead  our 
minds.  As  good  business  men  have  their  familiar 
tests  by  whicli  they  detect  adulterations  and  counter- 
feits, so  we  have,  in  a  Christian  creed  thoroughly 
learned  and  faithfully  applied,  a  ready  test  by  which 
we  may  distinguish  all  false  gospels  from  the  true. 
We  know  what  human  doctrines  to  accept  and  what 
ones  to  reject.  We  can  tell  the  movements  in  society 
about  us  which  are  opposed  to  Christ,  and  those 
which  are  a  development  of  His  kingdom. 

2.  It  is  needful  to  our  self-respect  that  we  hold  some 
positive  religious  belief.  Indecision  makes  a  man 
weak,  suspicious,  untrustworthy.  We  do  not  know 
to-day  where  we  shall  find  him  to-morrow.  There  is 
no  class  of  persons  whom  we  more  avoid  than  what 
are  called  uncertain  persons.  No  one  ever  feels  quite 
sure  of  them  ;  and  seeing  that  they  are  distrusted  by 
others,  they  cannot  wholly  trust  themselves.  Our  use 
of  that  colloquial  phrase,  "  on  the  fence,"  shows  how 
we  forfeit  all  title  to  respect  by  being  without  clear 
and  pronounced  beliefs. 

3.  A  Christian  creed,  embodying  the  essential 
truths  of  the  gospel,  is  aU-important  for  purposes  of 
instruction.  Go  into  communities  where  such  creeds 
are  unknown,  and  you  find  but  little  clear  and  definite 
knowledge  of  religious  truth.  What  you  do  find  is 
fragmentary,  superficial,  inconsistent  with  itself.  This 
loose  and  vague  way  of  dealing  with  Christian  doc- 
trine affects  all  departments  of  thought.  There  is 
sure  to  be  intellectual  degeneracy  where  the  careful 
training  of  the  young  on  religious  subjects  is  neg- 
lected. It  stimulates  the  mind  to  hold  a  positive 
faith ;  to  stand  pledged  to  something  which  we  feel 


284  SERMONS. 

bound  to  defend,  which  obliges  us  to  search  the  Scrip- 
tures, for  the  universal  acceptance  of  which  we  toil 
and  pray. 

4.  But  for  the  germ  of  all  these  creeds  we  must 
come  back  to  the  words  of  Peter,  and  to  the  spirit 
of  loving  trust  which  filled  his  heart  when  he  said, 
''Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God." 
That  belief  in  the  blessed  Son  of  God  which  leads  you 
to  consecrate  yourself  to  His  service  is  the  confession 
of  faith  which  He  asks  at  your  hands.  Without  this, 
any  others  which  you  may  bring  are  of  no  avail.  But 
having  this,  and  following  the  impulses  of  the  Spirit 
in  your  hearts,  you  will  be  led  from  faith  to  virtue, 
and  from  virtue  to  knowledge,  and  from  knowledge  to 
charity  ;  and  all  the  fruits  of  godliness  shall  be  in 
you  and  abound  in  your  lives. 


THE   BLESSEDNESS   OF   LIVING. 

It  is  not  a  vain  thing  for  you,  because  it  is  your  life.  —  Deut.  xxxii.  47. 

These  words  announce  a  truth  which  our  minds  are 
unaj^t  to  entertain  or  even  recognize  ;  we  love  to  con- 
template the  blessings  of  life,  but  seldom  consider  that 
life  itself  is  a  transcendent  blessing.  While  students 
of  nature  have  bewildered  themselves  with  trying  to 
give  a  scientific  definition  of  life,  and  the  mass  of  men 
have  regarded  it  as  a  boon  or  an  evil  according  to  its 
allotments,  the  Scriptures  admonish  us  that  it  is  one 
of  the  greatest  gifts  which  the  "  Father  of  lights " 
bestows  on  His  children.  Whether  we  believe,  with 
some,  that  it  is  the  same  thing  as  electricity  ;  that  it 
does  not  differ  from  the  principle  of  heat ;  that  it  is 
nothing  more  in  man  than  in  the  inferior  creatures : 
whether  we  vainly  attempt  to  grasp  and  analyze  it,  or 
confess,  with  the  wisest  of  thinkers,  that  it  is  a  mys- 
tery baffling  all  science,  —  yet  he  who  can  say,  "  I 
have  lived,"  should  not  pretend  that  he  has  no  occasion 
for  thanksgiving.  Simply  to  exist  as  a  human  being ; 
to  feel  this  vitality  streaming  and  flashing  through 
one's  frame ;  to  have  this  power  of  thought  and  affec- 
tion, these  longings  and  hopes  and  heavenly  ideals, 
though  it  be  in  feebleness,  obscurity,  and  suffering,  — 
are  an  inheritance  not  to  be  despised,  but  gratefully 
owned  and  guarded. 

Notwithstanding  what  stoicism  has  feigned  respect- 
ing the  nobleness  of  suicide,  admiring  the  deaths  of 
Cato  and  Seneca,  we  feel  that  there  is  justice  in  the 


286  SERMONS. 

instinct  wliicli  denies  to  such  the  honors  of  Christian 
burial.  Where  reason  has  succumbed  to  disease,  thus 
rendering  the  sufferer  irresponsible  for  his  actions,  no 
feeling  of  blame  can  arise  in  any  heart ;  but  he  who 
knowingly  undervalues  the  gift  of  life,  who  habit- 
ually despises  it,  and  professes  for  it  a  deliberate  con- 
tempt, even  though  he  should  not  toss  it  back  to  the 
Giver  as  a  trifle  not  worth  possessing,  betrays  dullness 
of  comprehension  no  less  than  an  unthankful  spirit. 
There  are  blessings  more  precious  than  life,  as  the 
battlefields  of  liberty,  the  scaffolds  of  Christian  dis- 
cipleship,  and  the  cross  of  salvation  may  evince  ;  but 
so  far  from  implying  that  life  is  valueless,  we  assume 
its  vast  worth  and  importance  by  choosing  it  as  the 
final  thing  to  be  weighed  against  freedom,  truth,  and 
redemption.  The  sacred  writers  often  depict  in  a 
very  striking  manner  the  shortness  and  uncertainty 
of  life:  but  all  such  descriptions,  plainly,  instead  of 
lowering  only  heighten  our  ideas  of  its  value ;  for 
why  admonish  us  of  the  loss  of  that  which  is  of  no 
consequence  ?  Our  life  on  earth  may  seem  a  small 
thing  in  comparison  with  our  immortality,  as  every 
finite  object,  however  grand,  must  sink  into  insigni- 
ficance when  placed  beside  what  is  unmeasured  and 
illimitable.  But  while  reading  "  Better  were  it  for 
that  man  if  he  had  not  been  born,"  we  perceive  that 
bare  life  is  classed  among  the  very  chiefest  of  human 
blessings ;  and  as  we  listen  to  Moses  in  his  last 
charge  to  the  Israelites,  exhorting  them  to  obedience, 
and  saying,  "  It  is  not  a  vain  thing  for  you,  because  it 
is  your  life,"  the  simple  permission  to  live,  however 
unblessed  and  unhonored  one's  life  may  seem,  stands 
towering  and  shining  before  us  among  the  choicest 
favors  which  all-accomplishing  Love  can  bestow. 


THE   BLESSEDNESS   OF   LIVING.  287 

That  the  bare  fact  of  our  existence,  whatever  its 
limit  or  allotments,  is  a  boon  for  which  we  should 
render  our  Creator  never-ceasing  thanks,  will  appear 
upon  due  reflection. 

1.  Every  human  life  involves  a  certain  royalty  and 
dominion.  We  may  lose  the  consciousness  of  this 
lordship,  and  for  the  most  part  do,  by  forgetting  the 
divine  order  of  the  world.  There  is  a  kingly  authority 
with  which  men  sometimes  invest  a  fellow,  or  which 
he  may  force  them  to  recognize ;  and  this  has  so  filled 
our  thought  as  to  render  us  careless  of  the  empire 
which  God  confers.  No  life  is  so  humble,  or  so  con- 
fined in  its  operation,  but  the  difference  in  dignity  be- 
tween it  and  the  most  illustrious  chieftain  is  too  small 
to  be  computed.  That  crown  bestowed  by  the  impar- 
tial Father  upon  all,  has  a  brightness  which  no  special 
exaltation  can  overshadow  or  bedim.  It  is  the  high- 
est glory  of  a  man  to  make  good  the  possibilities  of 
his  own  nature  ;  to  defend  those  imperial  honors  which 
are  his  birthright ;  to  comprehend  and  worthily  wear 
the  royalty  which  his  very  being  involves.  That  sov- 
ereignty on  earth  which  approaches  nearest  to  God's 
is  not  outward  and  formal,  but  in  the  soul  of  man. 
It  is  a  necessity,  and  its  ground  is  in  the  faculty  of 
freewill  Every  man  is,  by  virtue  of  his  creation,  the 
absolute  lord  of  a  kingdom.  He  cannot  vacate  that 
dominion,  save  at  his  peril,  until  it  is  terminated  by 
death.  It  is  a  trust  with  which  he  should  allow  noth- 
ing to  interfere,  and  which  he  will  be  required  to  ren- 
der back  when  God  calls. 

This  empire  is  partly  outward,  but  for  the  greater 
part  within  the  man  himself.  The  command  to  have 
dominion  over  external  nature  does  not  limit  our  pre- 
rogative :  we  have  other  and   weightier  prescriptive 


288  SERMONS. 

rights.  Though  unskilled  in  the  management  of  nat- 
ural forces,  though  we  have  never  discovered  nor 
applied  any  law  of  matter,  nor  achieved  aught  tend- 
ing to  increase  man's  lordship  over  the  world,  yet 
there  is  a  realm  in  which  we  may  reign  supreme. 
What  is  the  world  of  sense  to  the  world  of  spirit? 
"  What  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his  soul?  " 
One  may  bid  the  stars  conduct  vessels  across  the  sea ; 
another  may  yoke  the  steam  and  the  lightning  for  our 
service ;  on  every  side  of  us  there  is  a  scientific  con- 
quest of  the  outer  world  going  forward,  in  which  we 
may  be  unable  to  share,  —  discoveries  and  inventions 
to  which  only  the  highest  human  genius  is  equal :  yet 
these  triumphs,  in  which  so  few  can  participate,  do 
not  eclipse  the  dignity  which  is  common  to  us  all. 
We  are  not  thereby  discrowned,  for  the  inner  king- 
dom still  remains.  The  host  of  susceptibilities  and 
impulses,  the  intellectual  forces  which  range  through 
two  eternities,  the  high  spiritual  capacities  grasping 
infinity,  —  these  are  an  empire  for  the  feeblest  will,  in 
which  it  may  wield  undisputed  control.  "  Greater  is 
he  that  ruleth  his  own  spirit  than  he  that  taketh  a 
city,"  we  read;  and  this  is  no  hyperbole,  or  flight  of 
rhetoric,  but  a  literal  truth,  founded  on  the  intrinsic 
worth  and  grandeur  of  the  soul.  Every  one  who  en- 
joys the  life  of  probation  is  set  over  that  vast  inner 
realm.  Though  his  way  outward  should  be  hedged 
up  on  all  sides,  and  poverty  and  pain  be  his  bitter  lot, 
yet  his  life  is  no  vain  thing.  It  involves  a  royalty  so 
glorious  that  the  least  undervaluing  of  it,  or  effort  to 
cut  it  short,  is  a  wickedness  and  a  shame.  It  is  still 
a  gift  calling  for  gratitude,  —  a  trust  of  unspeakable 
meaning,  which  one  should  sacredly  and  reverentially 
hold. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS   OF  LIVING.  289 

Have  any  of  us  proved  false  to  this  kingdom? 
Does  conscience  testify  that  our  will  has  yielded  up 
the  throne  of  righteous  dominion  in  the  soul  ?  Are 
our  spirits  the  seat  of  anarchy  and  confusion,  —  the 
will  in  subjection  to  lower  propensities,  floating  hither 
and  thither  on  their  reckless  tide  ?  This,  instead  of 
lowering,  exalts  the  blessing  of  life.  It  is  an  oppor- 
tunity to  regain  our  lost  dominion.  And  what  nobler 
object  can  a  man  propose  than  to  gain  a  victory  over 
himself  ?  It  is  the  conflict  with  indwelling  sin,  and 
the  purpose  to  conquer  every  wayward  faculty,  which 
draws  upon  us,  even  from  Heaven,  looks  of  admiration 
and  love.  There  is  no  sublimer  thing  on  earth  than 
a  soul  resolving  to  bring  all  its  impidses  into  subjec- 
tion to  the  law  of  Christ,  saying,  "  I  will  recover  the 
kingdom  which  I  have  lost ;  I  will  reascend  the  throne 
which  my  evil  nature  enticed  me  to  forsake  ;  appointed 
to  rule  this  immortal  spirit  and  these  limitless  desires, 
God's  greatest  work,  I  wiU  no  longer  be  kept  from 
my  high  vocation.  These  riotous  passions  shall  be 
controlled ;  this  uprising  selfishness  and  self-love  shall 
be  put  down;  nor  will  I  ever  give  over  the  battle 
while  there  is  one  thought  or  wish  left  to  exalt  itself 
against  my  holy  determination."  It  is  for  the  soul 
thus  resolving  that  Christ  was  manifested,  died,  and 
now  intercedes.  If  not  a  spectacle  to  men,  it  is  to 
the  angels.  And  the  Holy  Spirit  is  with  it  alway, 
helping  and  cheering  it  through  the  long  warfare. 
Who  shall  say  that  it  is  not  blessed  to  live,  though 
destitute  of  all  superadded  benefits,  while  thus  toiling 
and  thus  attended,  urging  our  way  out  of  the  gulf 
into  which  sin  has  cast  us,  and  having  our  eye  fixed 
on  the  kingdom  and  crown  of  a  reinstated  manhood  ? 

2.  The  opportunities  of  service  which  every  life  in- 


290  SER^fONS. 

volves,  constitute  a  weiglity  trust.  Though  no  fellow- 
man  nor  any  department  of  nature  should  be  brought 
into  subjection  to  us,  and  though  the  consciousness  of 
dominion  in  our  own  souls  should  be  denied,  yet  there 
are  a  thousand  ways  in  which  we  may  be  serviceable 
and  helpful.  To  be  thus  useful  is  a  nobler  and  more 
Christ-like  aim  than  that  just  considered.  "  The  Son 
of  man  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minis- 
ter." To  aid  our  brother-men  —  lightening  their  bur- 
dens, cheering  and  supporting  them  through  tempta- 
tion—  is  the  worthiest  object  in  living.  It  likens 
us  to  God,  who  is  the  servant  of  all,  from  archangels 
down  to  the  smallest  worm  and  insect.  In  doing  this 
servants'  work  it  is  that  our  self-conquest  and  royal 
position  are  secured.  We  must  reign  as  God  reigns, 
who  is  the  blessed  potentate  because  "His  tender 
mercies  are  over  all  His  works."  Our  dignity  and 
perfection  are  an  incidental  result,  a  reward  given 
little  by  little  while  we  walk  in  the  footsteps  of  our 
all-sacrificing  Master.  None  are  so  weak  but  some- 
thing weaker  appeals  to  them  for  protection.  It  is  a 
maxim  in  political  economy,  that  whoever  makes  two 
blades  of  grass  grow  where  but  one  grew  before,  is  a 
benefactor  of  mankind.  Every  foot  of  surface  rescued 
from  the  encroaching  sea,  every  acre  of  waste  land 
subdued  to  the  plow  and  the  scythe,  are  a  contribu- 
tion to  the  welfare  of  the  race.  Only  let  each  laborer 
perceive  how  his  toil  enters  into  the  sum  of  human 
achievement,  and  none  can  say  that  it  is  a  vain  thing 
to  live.  There  is  no  unproductive  class  but  idlers. 
The  riches  which  vulgar  avarice  has  heaped  up  will 
in  due  time  be  gathered  by  some  wise  master,  and  be- 
come the  instrument  of  virtue  and  Christian  progress. 
"  No  man  liveth  unto  himself."     The  Church  of  the 


THE  BLESSEDNESS   OF  LIVING.  291 

Redeemer  is  not  in  haste,  but  calmly  "  bides  her 
time,"  knowing  that  the  honor  and  glory  of  the  na- 
tions shall  be  brought  unto  her.  As  sure  as  there  is 
a  God,  all  things  have  been  made  for  justice ;  and 
though  men  may  seek  to  check  or  divert  them,  here 
and  there,  they  move  steadily  toward  their  high  desti- 
nation. Human  activities,  whether  good  or  evil,  are 
the  chariot  wheels  of  Divine  Providence ;  they  roll 
the  world  onward  nearer  to  that  perfection  and  bless- 
edness which  await  it. 

Wherever  our  lines  of  duty  have  fallen,  this  truth 
should  be  the  inspiration  of  our  labors;  it  should 
hush  the  voice  of  murmuring.  The  coral  insect  toils 
on  beneath  the  waves,  all  unconscious  that  it  is  build- 
ing the  fruitful  island,  or  laying  the  foundation  of 
the  vast  mainland.  But  it  need  not  be  so  with  us. 
Gifted  with  that  wondrous  faculty  of  reason  which 
enables  us  to  trace  the  future  in  the  present,  we  may 
know,  while  buried  in  the  depths  of  obscurity,  that 
our  work  is  a  service  to  mankind  ;  we  may  foresee 
every  earnest  blow  and  every  honest  word  helping  to 
make  that  new  heaven  and  new  earth  wherein  dwelleth 
righteousness.  Why  despise  that  life,  esteeming  it  a 
vain  or  small  thing,  which  is  full  of  such  far-reaching 
possibilities?  What  ^dsdom  in  the  scripture  which 
bids  us  "cast  our  bread  upon  the  waters,"  and  "  sow 
our  seed  in  the  morning,  and  in  the  evening  withhold 
not  our  hand,  since  we  know  not  which  shall  prosper, 
whether  this  or  that  "  I  How  inspiring  the  admoni- 
tion that  "  God  seeth  not  as  man  seeth,"  but  hath 
chosen  the  things  which  are  "  weak  "  and  '^  foolish  " 
and  "  despised "  to  work  out  His  eternal  counsels ! 
Whoever  is  able  to  make  one  more  flower  grow  beside 
the  path  of  goodness,  turn  a  single  soul  from  the  w^ays 


292  SERMONS. 

of  vice,  or  erect  a  warning  beacon  on  any  dangerous 
coast,  may  yet  see  the  fruit  thereof  ''  shake  like  Leb- 
anon." There  are  untold  ministries  of  love  within 
the  power  of  the  feeblest  to  perform.  Your  life  is  of 
priceless  value,  and  should  be  held  and  used  as  a  sa- 
cred gift,  if  it  permits  you  to  alleviate  any  human 
sorrow ;  if  you  can  teach  young  feet  to  love  the  paths 
of  truth,  or  cheer  onward  to.  duty  any  shrinking  heart ; 
if  you  can  carry  a  cup  of  water  to  the  wounded  sol- 
dier, or  lift  up  a  fallen  infant,  or  gather  a  simple 
flower  for  the  wasting  invalid.  Not  an  emj)ty  thing, 
but  above  all  price,  your  feeble  existence,  while  you 
can  return  the  pressure  of  a  friendly  hand,  or  teach 
one  mortal  how  suffering  should  be  borne,  or  repay 
kindness  with  gratitude's  inspiring  smile. 

3.  The  poorest  human  life  reveals  its  unspeakable 
worth  when  we  consider,  again,  how  God  weaves  it 
into  His  universal  plan.  Life  everywhere  is  full  of 
wonderful  connections  and  interdependences.  There 
is  nothing  so  small  but  we  may  say  that  all  things  else 
exist  for  its  sake ;  and  then  it  is  just  as  true,  on  the 
other  hand,  that  it  liveth  not  unto  itself,  but  for  the 
benefit  of  the  universal  whole.  The  welfare  of  each 
being  is  a  trust  committed  to  all  other  beings.  It  is 
not  by  becoming  his  own,  but  his  brother's  keeper, 
that  every  man  is  to  help  the  order  and  bliss  of  the 
world.  How  beautiful  this  arrangement,  —  this  law 
of  reciprocity  pervading  rational  life  !  We  are  not  to 
look  on  our  own  things,  but  on  another's ;  and  to  love 
one  another  is  the  blessed  debt  which  can  never  be 
paid.  Each  ministering  to  the  whole,  and  the  whole 
to  each ;  you  guarding  my  rights,  and  I  yours  ;  no 
one  caring  for  himself,  but  every  one  for  his  brethren, 
—  such  is  the  law  of  Christ's  kingdom. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS   OF  LIVING.  293 

Nor  is  tliis  interaction  limited  to  finite  life.     God 
himself  lives  for   every  creature,  and  every  creature 
for  God.     The  redemption  in  Chiist  Jesus  is  for  each 
individual  soul :  "  He  tasted  death  for  every  man." 
For    every  man,  —  not   the  mightiest    only,  but   the 
least  and  lowest,  —  the  gift  of  the   Holy  Ghost,  the 
laws  of  matter  and  of  spirit,  the  revealed  truth,  this 
wondrous  fabric  of   world  on  world,  and  that  nobler 
temple  in  which  God  is  the  glory  and  the  Lamb  the 
light.     And  while  it  is  true  that  Jehovah  exists  both 
for  all  His  creatures    and  for  each  one,  it  is  just  as 
true  that  they,  not  only  in  the  mass  but  individually, 
exist  for  Him.     "He  has  made   all  things  for   Him- 
self," says  the   scripture.     "  The  invisible  things  are 
clearly  understood  from  the  creation  of  the  world,  — 
even  His  eternal  power  and  godhead."     "  The  heav- 
ens declare   His   glory."     "The  earth  is  full  of  the 
riches  of  His  goodness."     All  nature  is  musical  with 
voices  proclaiming  His  infinite  perfections.     Day  unto 
day  uttereth  forth  His   faithfulness,  and  night  unto 
night  repeateth  the  story  of  His  wisdom  and  power. 
And  all  history  and   experience  —  the    uj^heavals  of 
empires  and  every  private  joy  or  pain  —  are  the  let- 
ters which  record   His  thoughts  and  ways.     He  has 
destined  nothing  for  a  purposeless  existence,  but  has 
made  everything  beautiful  in   its  season.     Our  life  — 
though  a  vapor  which  appeareth  but  for  a  little  time, 
and  though  we  often  esteem  it  a  vain   possession  — 
has  a  part  to  bear  in  fulfilling  His  high  purposes. 
He  has  created  us  because  He  had   need  of  us  ;  He 
knows  the  niche  which  each  life  is  to  fill,  or  the  con- 
nection it  must  make  in  that  vast  structure  which  re- 
veals Him,  and  which  completes  the  measure  of  His 


294  SERMONS. 

AYe  see  not  the  finisliecl  picture,  but  only  the  back- 
ground, the  rough  preparatory  sketches  and  the  un- 
mixed and  scattered  colors.  But  though  all  is  so  con- 
fused and  unmeaning  to  us,  the  Great  Artist  knows 
just  where  each  item  belongs,  and  how  indispensable 
it  is  to  the  perfection  of  His  design.  That  life  which 
we  are  inclined  to  overlook  may  be  the  point  on 
which  the  character  of  the  entire  achievement  turns, 

—  a  line  which  we  may  never  discern,  perhaps,  but 
which,  to  God's  eye  and  to  the  glory  of  His  work,  is 
the  supreme  and  final  thing. 

The  doctrine  of  the  elder  theologians,  that  true 
religion  begins  in  the  willingness  to  lie  passively  in 
God's  hands,  does  not  abase  but  exalt  and  glorify  our 
humanity.  Why  should  I  deem  it  a  humiliation  to  be 
woven  into  that  web  of  wisdom  at  which  the  angels 
wonder  ?  Is  it  not  a  transcendent  honor  to  be  but  the 
smallest  thread  therein?  Your  life  may  seem  but  the 
veriest  trifle.  No  regenerative  force  may  go  out  from 
it  into  society.  No  man,  no  law  in  nature,  may  do 
obeisance  thereto.  You  may  be  unable  to  serve  ;  even 
your  suffering  may  be  curtained  with  darkness,  and 
your  struggles  for  self-conquest  uncertain  of  their 
result,  but  the  hand  which  sways  creation  takes  you 
up  as  a  very  precious  thing.  God  foresees  the  point 
at  which  there  would  be  an  appalling  vacancy  in  His 
plan  but  for  your  little  life.  You  may  be  the  in- 
visible line  in  the  picture,  the  faint  touch  of  color 
which  only  the  Great  Maker  Himself  discerns ;  but 
not  the  less  necessary  are  you  to  His  mighty  purposes, 

—  just  as  indispensable  to  the  completeness  of  His 
dominions  as  the  loftiest  of  the  worshipers  before  the 
throne.  Your  brief  existence  is  embosomed  in  the 
divine  eternity.     On  His  infinite  heart  you  are  up- 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  LIVING.  295 

borne.  The  least  of  your  doings  is  full  of  the  mean- 
ing of  His  wondrous  counsels.  He  is  beliind  and 
before  you,  encompassing  your  life  and  pouring  the 
mystery  of  His  own  being  into  it,  holding  it  up  from 
annihilation  and  rescuing  it  from  every  hazard  and 
strait,  lest  there  should  be  an  all-spoiling  defect  in  the 
one  vast  structure  which  He  is  rearing  from  everlast- 
ing to  everlasting. 

4.  The  poorest  life  has  possibilities  and  alternatives 
of  the  most  startling  character.  It  is  the  childhood  of 
an  endless  existence,  the  seed-time  of  an  infinite  har- 
vest, the  fountain-head  of  a  bliss  or  woe  immeasura- 
ble. Though  it  is  not  possible  that  any  life  should 
frustrate  God's  plan,  since  our  "  wrath,"  equally  with 
our  obedience,  "praiseth"  Him,  yet  it  is  for  this  brief 
time  on  earth  to  decide  whether  we  shall  reap  "  cor- 
ruption," or  "life  everlasting,"  throughout  the  long 
eternity.  Men  sometimes  draw  back  from  the  scrip- 
tural doctrine  of  retribution.  They  deem  it  unreason- 
able that  such  fearful  awards  should  follow  upon  the 
doings  of  a  life  so  short  and  feeble.  But  there  is  no 
absurdity  in  the  doctrine.  It  is  according  to  aU  anal- 
ogy. The  temporal  destinies  of  men  often  hang  on  a 
moment,  —  often  turn  upon  the  slightest  incident. 
The  fate  of  empires  and  of  races  has  many  times 
been  dependent  on  a  single  battle.  Every  grown  per- 
son, no  doubt,  can  recall  the  day  and  the  hour  in 
which  some  trifling  circumstance  fixed  the  current  of 
his  activities.  And  why,  then,  may  not  this  eartlily 
life,  though  a  fleeting  shadow,  forecast  the  great  here- 
after? Why  may  it  not  stamp  us  with  changeless 
characters,  and  give  an  impulse  wliich  shall  fix  the 
orbit  of  our  immortality?  Utterly  insignificant  in 
itseK,  "  vanity  of  vanities,"  saith  the  Preacher,  yet  it 


296  SERMONS. 

is  the  point  from  which  two  ways  are  ever  open, — 
one  into  the  dismal  land  which  hath  no  place  for  re- 
pentance, the  other  into  the  midst  of  the  paradise  of 
God.  Though  no  to-morrow  should  be  vouchsafed 
you,  yet  for  this  day,  yea,  for  this  hour  and  moment, 
you  owe  infinite  thanks,  for  in  it  you  can  choose 
whom  you  will  serve ;  from  it  you  may  launch  your 
soul,  either  upon  a  stormy  and  all-wrecking  sea,  or 
away  upon  peaceful  waters  where  no  form  of  evil 
ever  comes. 


THEORY  AND  PRACTICE  IN  RELIGION. 

Let  us  go  forth  therefore  unto  Him  without  the  camp,  bearing  His 
reproach.  —  Heb.  xiii.  13. 

The  theory  of  religion  and  its  i^ractice  should  ever 
go  hand  in  hand,  as  all  men  admit;  but  which  of 
them  shall  lead  the  other  is  not  so  easy  a  matter  to 
manage.  If  we  study  the  teachings  of  Clirist  and 
his  apostles,  we  shall  see,  I  think,  while  they  by  no 
means  slight  the  theory,  that  the  practice  is  that  to 
which  they  give  special  emphasis.  And  I  think  we 
must  also  admit  that  their  way  of  putting  the  case  has 
been  exactly  reversed  many  times ;  since  not  a  few  in 
the  church,  who  affect  to  be  guides  and  standards, 
have  given  but  little  thought  to  the  practice,  while 
devoting  their  whole  lives  to  the  theory.  Let  us  look 
a  little  at  tliis  general  statement. 

1.  First,  the  disposition  to  make  the  theory  of  reli- 
gion hard  and  its  practice  easy.  There  have  always 
been  men  in  the  church  who  represented  this  tendency. 
Perhaps  there  were  never  more  of  them  than  at  the 
present  day.  They  are  men  who  believe  with  the 
head  more  than  with  the  heart.  Their  aim  seems  to 
be  to  put  the  gospel  into  a  series  of  abstract  state- 
ments, rather  than  into  their  lives.  They  are  eager 
to  keep  the  faith  of  the  churches  intellectually  correct. 
Look  at  any  one  of  the  historic  creeds  of  Christen- 
dom. How  much  you  find  in  them  which  is  hard  to 
be  understood,  and  how  little  which  moves  and  fires 


298  SERMOiYS, 

your  soul !  The  first  of  them,  the  Apostles'  Creed,  is 
comparatively  simple,  made  up  almost  whoUy  of  bibli- 
cal statements.  But  those  which  come  later,  not  ex- 
cepting even  the  Nicene  and  Athanasian,  are  more  or 
less  the  result  of  controversy.  Some  Christians  ac- 
cepted them,  but  others  could  not ;  and  it  is  certain 
that  many  contended  for  one  of  them  or  for  another, 
to  the  sad  neglect  of  personal  godliness.  Among  the 
most  earnest  champions  of  some  of  those  hard  theo- 
ries of  religion  were  men  of  loose  and  irregular  lives. 
No  one  of  us  pretends  to-day  that  we  clearly  see  the 
meanino'  of  all  the  statements  in  those  confessions  of 
faith.  Can  we  commit  a  greater  sacrilege,  or  more 
surely  go  before  God  with  a  lie  in  our  hand,  than  by 
solemnly  assenting  to  we  know  not  what  ?  Men  can- 
not explain  to  us  what  they  mean  ;  yet  they  insist 
that  we  shall  say  Amen  to  their  words,  or  be  put 
under  their  ban.  If  they  could  have  their  way,  every 
person  who  comes  into  the  church  would  need  to  be 
an  acute  and  deep  thinker,  with  large  stores  of  knowl- 
edge ;  and  after  getting  in,  it  would  not  matter  so 
much  how  he  lived  :  the  harder  the  theory,  the  easier 
the  practice.  Think  of  the  labored  efforts  of  men  to 
prove  the  existence  of  God  !  Many  of  these  labored 
arguments  we  fail  to  comprehend ;  it  is  not  clear  that 
the  authors  themselves  understood  what  they  were 
saying.  Yet  it  is  natural  to  all  men  to  believe  in 
God  ;  His  voice  whispers  in  our  hearts.  If  any  doubt 
His  existence,  it  is  because  their  minds  are  blinded 
by  sin.  Let  the  Holy  Spirit  take  away  that  veil,  and 
they  will  believe ;  but  you  can  never  persuade  them 
with  words  which  only  darken  counsel.  Your  argu- 
ments will  be  more  likely  to  drive  them  into  doubt 
than  lift  them  out  of  it.     On  almost  all  the  so-called 


THEORY  AND  PRACTICE   IN  RELIGION.     299 

high  themes  of  religion,  a  mass  of  human  statements 
has  accumulated  ;  and  these  are  made  to  block  up  the 
very  entrance  to  the  Christian  life.  The  chief  diffi- 
culty of  the  pastor,  in  dealing  with  religious  inquirers, 
is  to  get  such  statements  out  of  the  way.  They  are 
the  rocks  and  sands  at  the  mouth  of  the  harbor,  amid 
which  he  must  pilot  the  ship  on  its  way.  One  great 
benefit  of  a  revival  is  that  it  lifts  men  up  on  a  wave 
of  feeling  out  of  the  reach  of  theories,  as  the  tide  lifts 
the  ships  above  hidden  banks  on  which  they  would 
otherwise  get  aground.  It  is,  in  one  view  of  it,  pain- 
ful to  think  how  many  men,  whose  names  are  re- 
no  w^ned  in  church  history,  have  devoted  their  lives  to 
religious  theorizing,  with  little  or  no  concern  for  the 
spread  of  rehgion  itseK  among  men.  We  recall  their 
names  in  connection  wath  dogmas,  speculations,  and 
controversies,  not  in  connection  with  the  real  life  and 
growth  of  the  church.  As  the  sand  of  the  desert 
blocks  up  temple-doors,  and  buries  whole  cities,  in  the 
East,  so  their  thinking  has  dealt  with  the  true  city  of 
God  on  earth.  AVe  must  dig  through  the  rubbish 
they  have  heaped  up,  or  clamber  over  it,  to  get  within 
the  sacred  walls.  So  great  is  the  mass  of  intellectual 
theory,  which  in  process  of  time  has  grown  up  on 
nearly  every  religious  question,  that  those  whose  only 
care  is  to  save  men  are  more  fain  to  thrust  it  back- 
ward than  forward.  However  much  of  it  may  be 
true,  it  is  no.t  what  the  inquirer  needs.  It  does  not 
open  the  way  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  but  blocks 
it  up.  It  may  be  food  to  us  some  time,  but  certainly 
is  not  while  we  are  new  converts.  It  may  benefit  now 
and  then  an  exceptional  person,  but  not  the  gi-eat 
mass  of  men  and  women.  But  a  still  worse  result, 
perhaps,  of  making  the  theory  of  religion  so  difficult, 


300  SERMONS. 

is  that  it  blinds  one  to  the  importance  of  the  practice. 
Practice  is  always  more  a  matter  of  will  and  genuine 
feeling  than  of  intellect.  You  may  reach  will  by  way 
of  the  intellect,  though  not  if  you  make  this  your 
stopping-place.  The  man  of  theories  does  this.  He 
is  satisfied  when  the  head  assents  to  his  teaching,  and 
does  not  go  on  to  emotion  and  action.  Hence  the  re- 
sult which  we  so  often  see,  in  those  who  are  all  the 
time  fighting  about  the  standards  and  confessions,  is 
wholly  natural.  They  are  so  taken  up  with  the  theory 
as  to  forget  the  practice.  They  rend  the  churches 
asunder  under  the  pretense  of  keeping  them  pure  in 
doctrine.  They  dream  that  they  are  saving  Christian- 
ity, when  they  are  only  loading  it  with  scandals.  That 
in  them  wliich  alone  can  make  them  earnest  workers 
for  Christ  lies  wholly  neglected.  They  have  no  heart 
for  evangelism,  but  the  rather  deride  it.  Their  pres- 
ence chills  the  prayer-meeting  and  the  room  for  reli- 
gious inquiry.  We  find  it  hard  to  say  whether  how 
much  they  know,  or  how  little  they  do,  is  most  remark- 
able. You  can  hardly  detect  a  shade  of  difference 
between  their  life  and  that  of  the  thoroughly  worldly 
man,  or,  if  you  do,  they  are  as  likely  to  be  below  as 
above  him.  Yet  they  will  fight  for  the  last  iota  of  the 
hardest  religious  theory,  bitterly  denouncing  all  who 
think  not  as  they  do,  and  casting  out  their  name  as 
evil.  And  thus  you  have  that  sad  incongruity,  —  the 
utmost  vigor  of  intellectual  belief  coupled  with  a  life 
which  dishonors  the  gospel. 

2.  Now  we  must  just  reverse  these  terms  if  we 
would  go  back  to  Christ  and  His  apostles.  They  do 
n':>t  make  the  theory  hard  and  the  practice  easy,  but 
the  contrary.  They  give  you  but  little  to  comprehend 
and  a  great  deal  to  do.    According  to  them,  the  theory 


'THEORY  AND  PRACTICE   IN  RELIGION.     301 

is  easy  and  the  practice  hard.  The  two  go  hand-in- 
hand,  but  practice  leads,  and  theory  follows.  ''  If  any 
man  do  His  will,  he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine."  The 
Bible  does  not  disparage  doctrine,  nor  do  I  in  this 
sermon.  But  if  you  look  closely,  you  will  see  that 
much  which  it  calls  doctrine  is  for  the  feelings  and 
will,  more  than  for  the  intellect  or  understanding. 
Yet  it  does  not  object  even  to  this,  where  the  Chris- 
tian worker  grows  naturally  into  it.  Christ  did  not 
say,  "  Learn  of  me,  for  I  understand  all  knowledge," 
but  "  Learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart." 
His  life  of  gentleness  and  love,  set  before  us  as  a  pat- 
tern, is  what  we  are  first  of  all  to  learn.  He  does  not 
wish  us  to  vex  our  souls  with  prying  into  things  w^hich 
the  angels  cannot  look  on.  We  shall  know  only  as 
we  follow  on  after  His  example  of  meekness  and  self- 
sacrifice.  Let  it  not  trouble  us,  though  we  now  know 
but  in  part,  is  His  blessed  reassurance  to  us  all.  If 
we  have  true  Christian  love  warming  and  filling  our 
hearts,  a  day  is  coming  when  we  shall  know  as  we  are 
known.  Without  this  love  we  should  be  as  sounding 
brass  and  a  tinkling  cymbal,,  though  we  had  all  knowl- 
edge and  understood  all  mystery.  Thus  gentle  was 
Christ  with  all  who  came  to  Him.  No  matter  what 
else  they  lacked,  if  His  spirit  was  in  them.  No  mat- 
ter how  much  of  other  things  they  could  not  accept,  if 
they  would  only  accept  Him.  He  did  not  draw  to 
HimseK  those  who  claimed  to  know  most  of  the  theory, 
but  those  who  were  ready  for  the  practice.  "  Can  ye 
drink  of  my  cup,  can  ye  be  baptized  vAt\\  my  baptism  ?  " 
was  what  He  said  to  such  as  asked  for  the  chief  seats 
in  His  kingdom.  The  wise  and  learned  rejected  Him  ; 
but  as  many  as  received  Him,  no  matter  how  simple 
or  how  ignorant  of  doctrine,  to  them  gave  He  power 


302  SERMONS. 

to  become  the  sons  of  God.  He  did  not  choose  doc- 
tors of  the  law  to  be  His  apostles,  but  fishermen  and 
carpenters.  His  aim  as  a  teacher  was  not  to  instruct 
His  disciples  in  regard  to  theories  of  religion,  but  to 
make  them  pure  in  heart.  If  they  became  temples  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  He  would  lead  them  into  the  truth ; 
would  teach  them  all  that  the}^  ought  to  know.  He 
did  not  try  to  prove  the  existence  of  God  to  any. 
That  was  taken  for  granted,  as  already  the  faith  of 
them  all  when  He  said,  "  Ye  believe  in  God,  believe 
also  in  me."  Christ  nowhere  contended  with  men  for 
religious  theories  ;  all  He  required  of  them  in  His 
appeals  was,  that  they  should  follow  Him.  But  if  the 
theory  of  religion  was  made  so  easy  to  men  by  Christ 
and  His  apostles,  the  practice  was  made  very  hard. 
The  perfect  Christian  life,  that  is,  was  painted  as  a 
great  and  difficult  thing.  Christ  was  thoroughly  hon- 
est and  outspoken.  He  did  not  conceal  aught  of  all 
that  is  implied  in  coming  after  Him.  Men  might  not 
be  able  to  reach  the  standard;  nevertheless  there  it 
was,  —  higher  than  heaven,  broader  than  the  earth. 
They  could  not  afford  to"  waste  any  energy  in  theoriz- 
ing, in  trying  to  comprehend  mystery;  they  needed 
it  all  for  their  daily  discipleship.  The  gate  to  this  life 
of  practical  piety  was  strait,  and  its  way  was  narrow. 
Whosoever  would  be  perfect  in  it  must  forsake  all 
that  he  had,  must  hate  his  own  life  even,  must  prefer 
Christ's  service  to  home  and  kindred.  Here  is  where 
the  difficulty  of  being  a  Christian  came  in,  as  Christ 
Himself  saw  the  case.  It  is  well  put  in  the  words  of 
our  text :  "  Let  us  go  forth  therefore  unto  Him  without 
the  camp,  bearing  His  reproach."  The  "  reproach  " 
was  the  cross  which  Christ  bore  to  the  place  of  His 
crucifixion.     He  had  spoken  of  the  cross  to  His  dis- 


THEORY  AND  PRACTICE  IN  RELIGION.    303 

ciples,  and  of  their  duty  to  bear  it  after  Him  in  the 
course  of  His  ministry.  And  this  metaphor,  which 
was  no  metaphor  but  a  dread  reality  to  Him,  can  mean 
but  one  thing.  We  must  be  wholly  consecrated  and 
ready  to  suffer  anything,  even  as  He  willingly  faced 
the  most  terrible  of  deaths,  if  we  would  be  His  perfect 
disciples.  When  we  begin  to  follow  Him,  we  must  take 
up  our  cross  ;  we  must  show  our  readiness,  that  is,  for 
any  self-denial  and  for  any  sacrifice,  though  it  be  of 
our  own  life  even,  which  may  come  in  the  way  of  our 
discipleship.  He  suffered  without  the  camp,  in  the 
place  of  guilt  and  human  scorn.  And  we  are  to  go 
forth  to  Him  into  that  same  place,  bearing  the  cross 
as  He  did,  thus  signifying  our  readiness  to  be  cruci- 
fied. We  read  that  He  was  made  a  curse  for  us,  as 
some  of  the  beasts  sacrificed  in  the  tabernacle  service 
were  made  a  curse  for  the  children  of  Israel.  "  The 
bullock  for  the  sin-offering,  and  the  goat  for  the  sin- 
offering,"  we  read  in  Exodus,  ''  shall  one  carry  forth 
without  the  camp,  and  shall  burn  them  in  the  fire." 
"  Wherefore  Jesus  also,"  says  the  apostle,  "  that  He 
might  sanctify  the  people  with  His  own  blood,  suf- 
fered without  the  gate."  We  also  read  of  the  scape- 
goat, over  which  the  priest  recited  the  sins  of  the 
people,  and  which,  with  this  load  of  imputed  guilt, 
was  sent  away  into  the  wilderness  to  perish.  Thus 
did  the  work  of  Christ  appear  to  John  the  Baptist 
when  he  said,  "Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  which 
taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world."  To  be  ready  for 
such  a  service  and  sacrifice  as  this,  is  what  the  perfect 
discipleship  requires.  What  man,  who  was  only  a 
man,  has  ever  yet  met  the  requirement  ?  Perhaps  St. 
Paul  came  near  to  it  when  he  said  that  he  was  ready 
to  be  offered,  or  when  he  declared  that  he  could  wish 


304  SERMONS. 

himself  accursed  from  God  for  liis  kindred  after  the 
flesh.  It  is  the  martyr  sjjirit  rising  uj)  within  us, 
and  controlling  the  whole  man,  which  Christ  requires. 
That  it  is  possible,  we  know  from  the  case  of  Stephen, 
of  James  the  Lord's  brother,  from  the  history  of  the 
Colosseum  at  Rome,  from  the  hymns  of  victory  sung 
in  many  a  consuming  flame  in  more  recent  times. 
Yet  there  was  a  vicarious  element  in  what  Christ  did, 
making  Him  more  than  the  martyrs ;  and  in  this  He, 
rather  than  they,  is  our  pattern.  Ah,  how  hard !  It 
may  be  possible  to  us  some  time,  dear  friends,  but 
not  now.  It  is  the  mark  which  we  have  set  before  us, 
but  we  have  not  yet  attained.  ShaU  we  ever  attain  ? 
Nay,  let  us  not  revolve  that  question  too  much,  lest  we 
be  cast  down  in  our  minds.  But  let  us  look  toward 
the  mark.  Let  us  not  waste  any  strength  on  idle 
questions :  we  need  it  all  for  this  holy  service.  When 
we  give  the  proof  in  our  daily  lives  that  we  are  wholly 
consecrated,  it  will  be  time  enough  for  us  to  try  to 
understand  the  deep  things  of  God.  First  we  will 
apprehend  that  for  which  we  have  been  apprehended 
in  Christ  Jesus  ;  and  then,  if  we  have  any  desire  that 
way,  we  will  turn  our  minds  to  those  human  views  of 
truth  which  now  puzzle  and  confound,  and  divide  and 
distract,  so  many  sections  of  the  Christian  world. 

3.  And  now  perhaps  you  say  there  is  small  comfort 
in  Christ,  since,  wdiile  He  takes  away  one  difficulty. 
He  puts  another  in  its  place.  Nay,  dear  friends,  you 
may  make  your  objection  stronger  than  that ;  for  if 
Christ  puts  out  of  your  way  all  the  difficulties  of 
theoretical  religion,  He  puts  before  you  the  impossibil- 
ity of  practical  religion.  Do  not  misunderstand  me. 
I  mean  a  perfect  Christian  life,  a  life  wholly  like  His. 
That  I  believe  to  be  impossible  to  me,  to  you,  to  every 


THEORY  AND  PRACTICE  IN  RELIGION.     S05 

man,  at  the  beginning.  It  may  hereafter  become  pos- 
sible, as  we  grow  unto  the  measure  and  stature  of 
Christ's  fulhiess. 

But  in  this  trouble  help  comes  to  us  all.  The  ten- 
derness and  gentleness  of  Christ  come  to  our  relief. 
His  long-suftering  and  forbearance  are  our  refuge. 
We  shall  not  be  afraid  to  undertake  what  now  seems 
impossible  to  us,  when  we  forget  ourselves  and  begin 
to  feel  under  us  the  arm  of  His  almighty  love.  In 
Christ  extremes  meet ;  that  is.  He  is  higher  than 
the  highest,  and  at  the  same  time  in  full  sympathy 
with  the  lowest.  He  knows  our  frame  better  than 
we  know  it  ourselves.  He  understands,  as  we  never 
shall,  how  impossible  it  is  that  we  should  at  once 
come  up  to  the  measure  of  His  devotion.  Yet  that  is 
the  goal  which  He  sets  far  away  before  us,  and  which 
He  encourages  us  to  hope  that  we  may  one  day  reach 
in  the  strength  which  comes  to  us  from  Him.  It  was 
not  a  new  convert  who  wrote  our  text,  but  one  who 
had  long  been  growing  in  conformity  to  Christ.  Yet 
he  looked  on  a  perfect  discipleship  as  something  for 
him  yet  to  attain.  He  still  pressed  toward  the  mark, 
and  looking  around  on  his  friends  he  says,  "  Let  us 
go  forth  therefore  unto  Him  without  the  camp,  bear- 
ing His  reproach."  Sometimes,  when  we  read  the 
words  of  Christ  setting  before  us  the  perfect  stand- 
ard of  duty,  we  are  tempted  to  say,  with  the  first  dis- 
ciples, "Who,  then,  can  be  saved?"  But  nothing 
can  encourage  us  more  than  those  same  words  of 
Christ,  dear  friends,  when  we  see  in  them,  not  what 
we  must  now  be,  but  what  we  all  can  become.  It  is 
no  small  thing  which  Christ  undertakes  to  do  for  us. 
He  proposes  to  work  out  a  mighty  change  in  us,  by 
the  power  of  a  divine  life  dwelling  in  us,  which  our 


306  SERMONS. 

faith  in  Him  brings  into  our  sonls.  He  will  raise  us 
up  to  heights  of  holiness  which  now  are  far  out  of  our 
sight.  He  will  change  us  into  His  own  image,  from 
glory  to  glory,  while  we  look  on  His  face.  He  will 
make  us  perfect  as  our  Father  in  heaven  is  perfect. 
His  life  which  He  gives  unto  us  will  gradually  pro- 
duce in  us  that  spirit  which  loves  its  enemies,  which 
does  good  hoping  for  nothing,  which  blesses  them  that 
curse  it,  which  sells  all  and  gives  to  the  poor ;  which 
makes  itself  a  living  sacrifice,  as  ready  for  the  cross 
as  Christ  was,  if  it  may  thereby  honor  the  truth  or 
save  a  soul  from  death.  Nothing  should  inspire  us 
more,  dear  friends,  than  the  certainty  that  we  may 
reach  this  high  character.  It  is  so  sure  that  Christ 
expects  it  of  us  all !  He  presents  it  in  the  form  of  a 
command ;  and  He,  too,  gives  us  the  strength  to  obey. 
But  while  so  great  things  are  to  be  done  for  us  in  the 
end,  Christ  begins  by  coming  down  to  us  just  where 
we  are.  The  word  is  nigh  us.  We  are  only  to  con- 
fess our  risen  Saviour,  and  with  the  heart  to  believe 
on  His  name.  He  does  not  ask  of  us  what  we  have 
not,  but  only  what  we  have.  He  accepts  us  for  the 
willing  mind.  When  we  have  done  what  we  could,  it 
is  enough.  He  takes  our  scant  service  and  makes  it 
great,  as  He  made  the  five  loaves  and  two  small  fishes 
feed  the  multitude.  He  even  chides  us  when  we  are 
discouraged  by  the  poorness  of  our  service.  He  does 
not  quench  the  smoking  flax.  He  says  to  the  bowed 
and  silent  penitent,  "  Go  thy  way,  sin  no  more." 
When  we  look  on  Him  and  faint  at  the  distance  be- 
tween His  character  and  ours.  He  says :  "  The  works 
which  I  do  shall  ye  do ;  and  greater  works  shall  ye 
do,  because  I  go  to  the  Father."  Nor  is  He  less  pa- 
tient and  tender  when  we  fall  in  the  way,  or  stray  out 


THEORY  AND  PRACTICE  IN  RELIGION.     307 

of  it.  How  kindly  He  dealt  with  Peter  !  —  did  not 
cast  him  off  because  of  the  denial,  but  gently  admon- 
ished him,  and  drew  him  back  into  the  way  of  his 
duty.  Thus  forbearing  is  Christ  toward  all  His  im- 
perfect disciples.  They  may  despise  one  another,  but 
He  never  despises  any.  They  may  be  censorious, 
but  He  is  not.  He  does  not  give  over  the  erring,  but 
chastens  them  that  He  may  receive  them.  Though 
we  sin  against  Him  seventy  times  seven,  yet  He  for- 
gives us  and  loves  us  still.  He  does  not  despair  of 
us  even  when  we  despair  of  ourselves  ;  and  though  all 
men  should  be  against  us.  He  is  for  us.  We  make 
the  theory  hard  and  the  practice  easy,  but  He  makes 
the  theory  easy  and  the  practice  hard.  Yet  this  hard 
practice  points  to  the  end  more  than  to  the  beginning 
of  the  Christian  life.  It  is  not  meant  to  discourage 
but  to  inspire  our  hope.  It  assures  us,  however  faulty 
our  obedience  may  now  be,  that  a  day  is  coming  when 
the  spirit  which  was  in  Christ  shall  be  in  us  also. 


MANLINESS. 
Show  thyself  a  man.  —  1  Kings  ii.  2. 

He  shows  himself  a  man  who  goes  about  his  work, 
whatever  it  may  be,  in  man-fashion.  Such  an  one  is 
not  listless,  but  in  earnest.  He  works ;  he  does  not 
dawdle.  He  brings  all  his  faculties  and  powers  to 
bear  on  what  he  is  doing ;  his  devotion  is  complete, 
not  partial.  He  does  not  allow  his  attention  to  be 
diverted  or  distracted.  He  sees  his  object,  and  noth- 
ing can  break  his  determination  to  gain  it.  He  does 
not  boast  or  bluster.  He  does  not  look  around  to  see 
who  may  be  applauding  or  blaming  him.  He  just 
does  with  his  might  what  his  hand  finds  to  do,  with 
singleness  of  eye,  with  firmness  of  purpose,  with  con- 
centration of  mind,  and  with  the  least  noise  or  dis- 
turbance to  others  possible. 

There  is  a  lesson  for  you  in  nature,  if  you  would 
know  what  it  is  for  one  to  do  his  work  in  a  manful 
way.  The  sun  does  not  loiter  in  his  daily  task.  He 
comes  forth  from  his  chambers  in  the  east,  and  rejoices 
as  a  strong  man  to  run  a  race.  He  shines  on,  though 
clouds  and  darkness  are  often  about  him.  Steadiness, 
earnestness,  no  resting,  one  continuous  and  strong 
march  till  his  journey  is  done,  are  in  the  example  he 
sets  you.  The  earth,  turning  on  its  axis  and  rolling 
through  its  orbit,  also  sets  you  an  example.  If  you 
could  do  your  work  as  the  earth  does  its  work,  you 
would  indeed  show  yourself  a  man.     How  true  it  has 


MANLINESS.  309 

been  to  its  dally  and  yearly  task  ever  since  it  was 
launched  into  the  sky !  Many  of  the  lower  animals, 
dear  friends,  are  all  the  time  teaching  us  a  lesson, 
setting  us  an  example.  What  perfect  servants  to  you 
your  horses  and  oxen  often  are !  If  you  would  do  the 
work  God  gives  you  as  well  as  they  do  the  work  you 
give  them,  this  would  be  a  world  of  order,  happiness, 
and  joy.  The  beneficent  changes  in  nature  can  all  be 
depended  upon.  There  is  no  caprice  in  them.  They 
come  in  their  fixed  round,  as  though  they  thoroughly 
felt  the  importance  of  what  they  have  to  do.  While 
the  earth  has  stood,  summer  and  winter,  cold  and  heat, 
seed-time  and  harvest,  day  and  night,  have  known 
their  places.  The  whole  creation  above  and  beneath, 
in  things  small  and  great,  is  earnest,  determined, 
steady  in  its  movements.  You  have  only  to  be  like  it 
in  the  task  which  God  has  given  you,  and  you  will 
live  a  perfect  life.  You  will  show  yourself  a  man 
when  you  do  what  a  man  should,  as  the  sun  and  earth 
and  seasons,  and  obedient  dumb  creatures,  are  each  per- 
fect in  their  places  by  doing  their  parts  in  the  general 
plan.  How  unworthy  of  us  to  evade  the  path  of  duty, 
to  linger  in  it,  to  grow  weary  of  our  work,  and  let  our 
minds  be  diverted  from  it,  while  this  earnest,  unswerv- 
ing, and  withal  joyous  life  is  ever  going  on  about  us 
and  over  our  heads  ! 

David  spoke  the  words  of  our  text  to  Solomon, 
when  Solomon  was  about  to  succeed  him  on  the  throne 
of  Israel.  God  gives  each  of  us  something  to  do  in 
the  world.  He  gave  Solomon  a  kingdom  to  govern. 
And  his  wish,  coming  by  David,  was  that  he  should 
be  a  manly  king.  There  had  been  many  unmanly 
kings  before  the  day  of  Solomon,  and  there  have  been 
many  since  his  day.     He  did  not  himself  escape  this 


810  SERMONS. 

weakness  in  the  latter  part  of  his  reign.  He  showed 
himself  a  man  when  he  first  came  to  the  throne ;  was 
altogether  worthy  of  his  high  office,  j^unishing  crimes, 
redressing  \vrongs,  tempering  justice  with  mercy,  de- 
serving and  receiving  the  glad  homage  of  his  sub- 
jects. But  when  he  swerved  from  this  manly  course, 
became  effeminate,  dallied  with  false  religions,  and 
sought  to  profit  by  his  people  rather  than  do  them 
good,  then  the  seeds  of  revolt  were  sown,  which  bore 
their  dread  harvest  in  the  time  of  Rehoboam.  Saul, 
the  first  king  of  Israel,  did  his  royal  work  in  a  very 
unmanly  way.  He  did  not  seem  to  comprehend  its 
meaning.  He  looked  on  the  kingdom  as  his  own,  and 
not  as  a  great  trust  received  from  God.  His  desire  in 
reigning  was  to  please  himself,  and  advance  his  own 
name  and  family,  rather  than  be  a  blessing  to  his  peo- 
ple. He  had  an  impulsive  generosity ;  he  was  a  brave 
warrior ;  he  had  his  moments  of  noble  inspiration  ; 
but  he  utterly  failed  to  show  himself  a  man.  He  was 
not  true  to  his  trust,  as  the  sun  and  earth  are  to  theirs. 
Christ  has  taught  us,  by  His  words  and  in  His  life, 
what  a  man  should  be.  He,  who  was  the  Son  of  man, 
made  it  His  business  to  minister  to  others.  So  far  as 
Saul,  or  David,  or  Solomon  failed  to  do  this,  he  did  not 
make  a  manly  use  of  his  royal  power.  When  Joash 
was  brought  forth  by  the  priest  Jehoiada  and  made 
king  of  Judah,  he,  though  he  was  but  eight  years  old, 
began  to  show  how  a  king  who  is  but  a  boy  may  be  a 
man.  He  put  an  end  to  the  abuses  which  had  grown 
up  under  Athaliah,  idolatries  ceased  out  of  the  land, 
and  the  worship  of  the  true  God  was  reestablished. 
Joash  found  by  studying  the  law  that  his  kingdom 
was  a  theocracy,  founded  for  the  working  out  of  cer- 
tain great  purposes  of  God.     From   that,  its  lawful 


MANLINESS.  311 

end,  it  had  been  sadly  turned  aside  ;  and  his  first  care 
was  to  bring  it  back  to  its  original  idea.  In  this  he 
showed  a  determination  to  be  true  to  his  high  trust. 
If  not  a  man  in  years,  he  yet  was  in  spirit  and  in  the 
conduct  of  his  kingdom.  He  did  not  show  himself  a 
tyrant  or  a  brute,  but  was  so  faithful,  in  the  place 
where  God  had  put  him,  that  he  was  more  than  a 
king ;  he  was  a  man.  It  was  not  his  royal  title,  but 
his  sturdy  manhood,  wliich  honored  God.  However 
high  one's  position  is,  his  character  is  something 
higher  if  what  it  ought  to  be.  The  office  may  be 
great,  but  he  is  greater  by  simply  showing  himself  a 
true  man.  If  you  are  a  brother  of  low  degree,  you 
may  have  such  a  manhood  that  no  one  will  ever  think 
of  the  degree.  That  is  sunk  out  of  sight.  Oh,  what 
a  victory  if,  when  men  think  of  you,  all  else  is  for- 
gotten, —  your  poverty  or  wealth,  your  weakness  or 
power,  your  obscurity  or  renown,  —  and  they  see 
before  their  minds  only  a  true  man,  made  in  the 
image  of  God ! 

Kings  are  not  the  only  persons,  therefore,  who 
should  show  themselves  men.  There  were  prophets 
in  Israel  and  Judah  in  the  days  of  the  kings,  and 
some  of  these,  almost  as  much  as  the  kings,  failed  of 
being  true  men.  Samuel  is  almost  the  only  one,  whose 
whole  history  we  know,  on  whom  there  rests  no  stain. 
From  infancy  on,  through  youth  and  mature  life,  into 
old  age,  and  even  till  death,  he  was  true  to  his  office. 
He  was  steady,  earnest,  and  vigilant  in  the  work  wliich 
God  gave  him.  If  his  name  stands  out  conspicuous 
in  the  past,  that  is  because  his  lofty  manhood  hfted  it 
up  far  above  aU  that  his  prophetic  rank  coidd  do. 
Elisha  also,  in  the  time  of  Ahab,  was  another  who 
for  the  manful  discharge  of  duty  may  stand  near  to 


312  SERMONS. 

Samuel.  Of  the  personal  history  of  other  prophets 
we  do  not  know  so  much.  Elijah  was  at  times  ex- 
ceedingly brave ;  and  the  only  fit  way  for  such  a  man 
as  he  to  leave  the  world  was  in  a  whirlwind  of  lire. 
But  at  times  he  lost  heart,  and  murmured,  and  fled 
away  from  the  face  of  danger  into  deserts  and  caves. 
He  hardly  showed  himself  a  man  while  sitting  under 
the  juniper  tree,  and  wishing  for  himself  that  he 
might  die.  He  certainly  was  not  a  man  in  the  sense 
of  our  text,  but  showed  that  human  weakness  from 
which  a  true  manhood  makes  one  free.  When  the 
Lord  told  Jonah  to  go  and  preach  in  Nineveh,  Jonah 
did  an  unmanly  thing  in  running  away  and  taking 
ship  to  flee  to  Tarshish.  God  taught  him,  by  a  won- 
derful deliverance  from  the  sea,  that  His  servants  are 
never  unsafe.  Being  thus  admonished,  he  found  cour- 
age to  go  to  Nineveh  when  God  spoke  the  second  time. 
But  again  he  forgot  himself,  and  failed  to  play  the 
man,  when  God,  moved  by  the  penitence  of  Nineveh, 
reversed  His  word  concerning  it.  Jonah  did  not  so 
use  his  prophetic  office  as  to  leave  behind  him  the 
impression  of  an  earnest  and  faithful  man.  That 
sturdy  old  prophet  Micaiah,  in  the  time  of  Ahab  and 
Jehoshaphat,  might  have  taught  him  a  lesson.  Mica- 
iah was  not  afraid  of  Ahab  and  his  terrible  wife  Jeze- 
bel, and  his  four  hundred  and  fifty  false  prophets. 
He  told  them  to  their  faces  what  God  thought  of 
them,  and  for  his  manly  honesty  had  been  thro^vn 
into  prison.  When  he  was  sent  for,  at  the  instance 
of  Jehoshaphat,  on  the  eve  of  the  fatal  march  against 
Ramoth-Gilead,  he  dared  to  be  a  man  as  well  as  a 
prophet.  They  might  mock  him,  and  smite  him,  and 
starve  him  to  death  in  their  dungeons,  but  they  could 
not  make  him  false  to  his  divine  office.     The  word 


MANLINESS.  313 

which  God  had  given  him  he  would  speak,  thus  doing 
his  duty  man-fashion ;  and  what  should  come  of  it 
was  not  for  him  but  for  God  to  determine. 

Dear  friends,  there  were  captives  in  ancient  times 
who  showed  themselves  men  more  than  some  prophets 
and  kings.  Such  was  Joseph.  Rather  than  commit 
a  crime,  he  would  be  cast  into  prison  by  Pharaoh. 
He  was  but  a  youth ;  yet  he  feared  not  to  suffer,  or 
even  to  die,  while  his  manhood  remained  to  him  un- 
stained. The  dreams  of  greatness  which  had  come 
to  him  years  before  did  not  turn  his  head,  though  he 
had  the  simplicity  to  tell  them.  He  would  be  a  man 
in  Egypt,  although  he  was  a  slave.  A  dark  cloud 
rested  on  his  future,  but  he  would  not  fling  away  the 
present.  He  still  believed  that  God  was  God,  and 
that  nothing  else  became  him  so  much  as  to  be  a  man. 
It  is  not  the  power  and  honor  to  which  Joseph  rose  in 
Egypt  for  which  we  now  admire  him.  He  could  not 
have  thus  risen  but  for  the  sturdy  manliness  which 
was  in  him  ;  and  this  it  is  which  has  made  him  a  mem- 
orable example  to  all  the  young.  And  the  manly 
spirit  which  was  in  him  was  again  acted  out,  many 
centuries  later,  at  the  court  of  Babylon  by  Daniel,  an- 
other Hebrew  captive.  What  a  temptation  to  him  to 
be  so  in  favor  with  the  king  !  His  office  of  cupbearer 
brought  him  into  the  midst  of  all  the  voluptuous  feasts 
and  revels  at  the  royal  palace.  But  the  eating  and 
drinking  were  in  the  presence  of  idols,  often  the  ac- 
companiment or  even  a  part  of  idolatrous  worship. 
Hence  Daniel  abhorred  the  feasts,  though  his  duty 
forced  him  to  see  them.  As  a  true  man  he  served  his 
royal  master,  and  as  a  true  man  he  would  not  be  false 
to  his  God.  Nothing  which  had  the  taint  of  idolatry 
upon  it  could  be  made  to  enter  his  mouth.     When 


314  SERMONS. 

fears  were  expressed  about  his  health,  he  had  faith 
to  throw  himself  on  God ;  and  the  result  of  the  ex- 
j^eriment  which  he  permitted  to  be  tried  showed  that 
God  does  not  forsake  those  who  do  not  forsake  Him. 
Daniel  believed  what  God  had  said  concerning  Je- 
rusalem ;  and  therefore  he  was  man  enough  to  pray 
for  its  rebuilding  though  accused  for  it  to  the  king. 
Just  to  test  the  sturdiness  of  his  faith,  the  decree 
went  forth  that  whoever  prayed  to  any  but  the  king 
should  be  given  to  the  lions.  But  Daniel  was  not 
overawed.  He  stiU  opened  his  windows,  and  prayed 
three  times  a  day  with  his  face  toward  Jerusalem. 
Here,  now,  is  the  grand  fact  in  Daniel's  history.  He 
was  more  than  a  fair  and  accomplished  young  person, 
more  than  a  favorite  at  court,  more  than  a  prophet  by 
whom  God  spoke  to  the  king.  He  was  a  man  and 
dared  to  show  that  he  was.  He  played  the  man  at 
the  risk  of  everything  else  ;  for  his  manliness  was  of 
that  noble  kind  which  the  most  terrible  threats  can- 
not make  untrue  to  itself. 

The  captive  who  shows  himself  a  man  is  greater 
than  the  prophet  or  king  who  does  not.  If  you  are 
true  yourself  and  put  that  truth  into  all  your  work, 
whatever  you  do  will  be  glorious.  It  is  not  on  the 
office  or  station,  but  on  the  man,  that  everything  de- 
pends. 

Christ  chose  out  twelve  men  to  be  disciples  or  apos- 
tles under  Him.  This  gave  them  a  certain  official 
dignity  ;  but  it  was  a  shame  to  them,  rather  than  an 
honor,  if  they  failed  to  exercise  their  office  in  a  manly 
way.  The  office  did  not  hide  Peter's  shame,  but 
made  him  the  more  abhorred,  when  he  denied  his 
Master.  Judas  held  the  official  rank  of  an  apostle, 
but  that  could  not  save  him  from  the  infamy  of  his 


MANLINESS.  315 

own  sin.  The  fact  of  discipleship  only  made  more 
obvious  the  baseness  of  those  who  were  not  manly 
enough  to  stand  by  their  Lord  in  his  extremity,  but 
forsook  him  and  fled.  It  is  the  misfortune  of  many 
persons  that  their  names  cannot  be  forgotten.  The 
providence  of  God  gave  them  a  place  in  history  which 
ensures  their  immortality.  But  it  is  an  immortality  by 
no  means  to  be  desired.  They  are  remembered  only 
to  be  abhorred.  The  greater  the  part  they  acted  in  life 
the  deeper  their  shame,  since  they  acted  in  a  very  un- 
manly way.  We  are  accustomed  to  say,  when  a  man 
becomes  a  disciple  of  Christ,  that  he  is  on  the  road  to 
all  perfection.  That  is  true.  But  he  must  put  bis 
manhood  into  bis  discipleship,  or  it  will  do  liim  small 
good.  Only  as  the  first  disciples  became  true  men 
did  their  discipleship  lift  them  to  holiness  and  to  God. 
Those  who  loved  the  praise  of  men  more  than  the  praise 
of  God  might  as  well  have  been  called  something  else 
as  followers  of  Christ.  It  would  have  been  better  for 
Ananias  not  to  pretend  to  consecrate  his  land  than  it 
was  to  do  this  and  then  keep  a  part  of  its  price  to 
himself.  Peter  and  John  showed  the  spirit  which  our 
text  recommends  when,  being  forbidden  to  preach  any 
more  in  Christ's  name,  they  said,  "  We  must  obey 
God  rather  than  men."  No  matter  how  great  any 
work  may  be  in  which  you  engage,  it  can  do  you  no 
honor  if  a  truly  manful  spirit  be  left  out  of  it ;  and, 
however  small  it  may  be,  such  a  spirit  in  it  makes  it 
noble. 

Have  we  ever  thought  how  much  the  divine  man- 
liness of  Christ  had  to  do  with  the  glory  of  His  life 
on  earth  ?  He  called  himself  the  Son  of  man ;  and 
there  was  no  name  in  which  He  delighted  more  than 
this.     He  was  the  only  perfect  Man   that  has  ever 


316  SERjVONS, 

lived.  The  Spirit  of  God,  resting  without  measure 
ui3on  Him,  made  Him  what  no  one  else  has  been.  Go 
where  He  would,  all  things  about  Him  were  lifted 
up  and  made  noble  by  His  presence.  He  filled  out 
every  relation  of  life  to  its  utmost  meaning  ;  no  other 
such  Friend,  Brother,  Teacher,  Son,  Redeemer,  because 
no  other  such  Man.  It  was  not  His  actions  and  words 
in  themselves,  but  the  glory  of  a  divine  manhood  fill- 
ing them,  which  made  them  so  wonderful.  This  trans- 
figured everything  He  touched.  This  made  beautiful 
the  plain  and  rude  people  whom  He  loved  and  who 
returned  His  love.  If  some  other  person,  less  a  man 
than  He,  had  done  the  very  same  things  which  He 
did,  there  would  have  been  no  such  result.  Besides 
all  else  which  God  has  taught  us  by  sending  His  Son 
into  the  world.  He  has  shown  how  wondrous  a  thing 
our  human  nature  may  be  when  wholly  free  from  the 
taint  of  sin.  God  crowned  man  with  glory  and  honor, 
and  set  him  over  the  work  of  His  hands.  Wherever 
you  find  a  true  man,  a  person  who  is  all  which  that 
high  word  implies,  there  you  find  that  to  which  out- 
ward glory  can  add  nothing.  It  eclipses  the  most 
splendid  surroundings ;  it  transfigures  the  meanest 
earthly  lot.  We  do  not  stop  to  ask  whether  its  robe 
be  of  purple  or  sackcloth,  for  we  are  wholly  taken  up 
and  carried  away  by  the  thing  itself. 

And  here  we  see  that  there  can  be  no  true  man- 
hood which  does  not  have  its  root  and  sources  in  God. 
Christ  was  in  the  Father  and  the  Father  in  Him ;  and 
this  is  what  made  Him  the  only  perfect  Man  the  world 
has  ever  seen.  True  manhood  is  not  something  which 
we  have  already  attained :  it  is  an  ideal  toward  which 
the  best  and  holiest  are  as  yet  struggling.  We  have 
not  apprehended  but  we  press  toward  the  mark.     In 


MANLINESS.  317 

tlie  highest  sense  of  the  words,  no  one  will  show 
himself  a  man  till  his  character  reflects  the  imag-e  of 
Christ.  As  He  said  when  He  came  into  the  world,  so 
you  must  be  able  to  say,  "  Lo  !  I  come  to  do  thy  will, 
O  God,"  or  the  germs  of  a  true  manhood  are  yet  to 
spring  up  in  you.  If  you  were  a  king  and  did  not  use 
your  royal  power  for  God's  glory  and  the  good  of  your 
subjects,  you  would  not  be  a  man,  and  so  would  lose 
what  is  more  to  you  than  a  kingdom.  If  you  were  a 
prophet  and  prophesied  falsely,  you  would  not  be  the 
better  but  the  worse  for  your  noble  gift.  Whatever 
you  do,  do  it  in  man -fashion,  doing  all  to  the  glory  of 
God,  and  you  have  every  reason  to  be  therewith  con- 
tent. The  manly  slave  shall  wear  a  nobler  immortal- 
ity beside  the  crystal  waters  than  the  unmanly  king. 
Take  Christ's  name  upon  you,  and  so  let  all  the  world 
see  that  you  have  made  His  divine  manhood  your 
great  ideal.  Having  set  this  perfect  pattern  of  a  Man 
before  you,  press  bravely  toward  it  in  the  strength 
which  God  imparts.  Serve  your  Lord  and  Master  as 
one  should  who  has  begun  to  show  himself  a  man. 
Faith  in  Him  is  the  only  point  from  which  a  true  life 
can  begin,  and  whoever  manfully  lives  out  that  life, 
filling  his  earthly  lot  with  it,  and  pouring  it  into  what- 
ever he  does,  whether  great  or  small,  shall  at  length 
find  that  it  has  made  him  a  king  and  priest  unto  his 
God. 


TURNING   DEATH  INTO   LIFE. 

And  everything  shall  live  whither  the   river  eometh. — Ezekiel 
xlvii.  9. 

We  have  in  the  first  twelve  verses  of  the  forty- 
seventh  chapter  of  Ezekiel  a  picture  of  the  world  so 
far  as  yet  unchristianized,  and  also  more  especially  a 
picture  of  the  blessed  work  which  the  gospel  is  to  do 
in  the  world  by  its  progress  and  final  triumphs.  Is  it 
not  a  picture  which  we  should  be  glad  to  contem- 
plate, that  our  courage  and  zeal  and  faith  may  be 
set  on  fire  as  often  as  we  look  around  us  and  before 
us  on  the  kingdom  we  are  trying  to  extend  ?  Though 
this  were  a  spiritually  dead  world  but  for  Jesus  Clirist, 
yet  the  flowing  out  from  Him  of  those  regenerative 
forces  which  are  to  turn  that  death  into  life  has  al- 
ready begun.  The  "  East  country,"  towards  which  our 
text  says  the  waters  issued  out,  is  the  upper  part  of 
the  valley  of  Jehoshaphat  lying  between  the  ridge  on 
which  Jerusalem  stands  and.  the  Olivet  range.  The 
"  desert  "  into  which  those  waters  go  down  when  they 
turn  southward,  is  that  same  valley,  widening  or  nar- 
rowing in  its  course,  and  full  of  rocks  and  sandy 
wastes,  and  the  tombs  and  graves  of  the  dead.  The 
sea  into  which  the  waters  are  "  brought  forth,"  and 
which  is  healed  by  their  life  -  giving  touch,  is  the 
dead  sea  in  which  the  valley  of  Jehoshaphat  suddenly 
and  dismally  ends.  That  valley  and  sea  were  to  the 
Jewish  mind  a  symbol  of  what  is  most  barren,  most 


TURNING  DEATH  INTO  LIFE.  319 

gloomy,  most  desolate.  This  would  be  especially  true 
at  the  sad  time  when  Ezekiel  wrote.  How  profound 
his  sense  of  the  dead  and  wasted  condition  of  a  sinful 
world,  while  he  chooses  the  blighted  valley  of  the 
Kidron,  and  the  sea  in  which  no  fish  can  live,  to  im- 
age that  condition  forth  !  It  was  across  the  valley  of 
the  Kidron  that  David  fled  from  his  son  Absalom, 
broken-hearted  and  weeping  as  he  went  on,  passing 
the  heights  of  Bahurim  from  which  Shimei  cast  down 
stones  upon  him.  By  the  brook  Kidron  Asa,  when 
he  came  to  the  throne,  destroyed  and  burnt  the  idol 
which  his  mother  had  set  up,  near  which  in  a  grove  an 
abominable  worship  had  been  long  practiced.  Here, 
according  to  Josephus,  the  terrible  Athaliah,  daughter 
of  the  equally  terrible  Jezebel,  was  at  the  command  of 
Jehoiada  slain.  In  this  valley,  near  to  Jerusalem,  the 
bloody  and  loathsome  idol-worships,  into  which  God's 
people  were  so  prone  to  be  led  away,  were  for  a  long 
time  practiced.  Into  it,  or  one  of  its  branches,  the 
litter  and  filth  of  the  city  were  carried  forth  and  burnt, 
whence  our  Sa^dour's  image  of  Gehenna,  the  valley  of 
the  son  of  Hinnom,  in  which  the  fire  was  not  quenched. 
The  valley  of  Jehoshaphat  became  a  cemetery  about 
the  time  of  king:  Josiah,  thus  rendering;  it  unclean  in 
the  eyes  of  all  Jews ;  and  one  of  the  miracles  which 
Jeremiah  foretold,  thus  anticipating  the  prophecy  in 
our  text,  was  the  recovering  of  the  polluted  place  to 
its  early  sacredness.  Blight,  desolation,  uncleanness, 
and  death  were  what  the  valley  to  the  east  and  south 
stood  for  to  the  mind  of  Ezekiel.  This  was  his  sym- 
bol of  the  spiritual  condition  of  men,  which  he  drew 
for  those  whom  he  was  addressing.  And  if  we  foUow 
on  down  the  dead  ravine  till  we  come  to  the  sea  at  its 
mouth,  the  same  lesson  is  impressed  on  us  still.     How 


320  SERMONS. 

like  the  false  world  that  sea  is !  Its  waters  are  said  to 
be  clear,  and  its  surface  a  bright  blue-and-green  under 
the  crystalline  sky,  but  nothing  can  live  in  its  depths : 
it  is  supposed  that  the  wicked  cities  of  the  plain  strew 
its  bottom  with  their  wrecks ;  on  its  shore  grow  those 
apples  of  Sodom  golden  to  the  sight,  but  which  turn 
to  ashes  on  the  lips.  Such  is  man,  such  is  the  world, 
whether  Jew  or  Gentile,  the  prophet  means  that  we 
shall  understand,  as  he  paints  his  picture  of  the  valley 
and  the  sea  which  are  dead. 

Did  Ezekiel  exaggerate,  dear  friends,  in  this  ?  Did 
he  paint  the  Christless  woi;Jd  more  desolate  and  dead 
than  it  really  is  ?  Not  if  we  take  the  Bible  testimony 
as  true.  Go  back  to  the  times  before  the  flood.  What 
was  then  the  spiritual  state  of  the  world,  on  account  of 
which  the  flood  came  ?  Do  we  not  find  the  fitting 
symbol  of  it  in  the  valley  and  sea  of  Ezekiel's  vision  ? 
It  was  necessary  to  put  what  remained  of  goodness 
into  an  ark,  and  float  it  off  on  the  waters  which 
drowned  all  else,,  in  order  that  some  seeds  of  hope  for 
the  future  might  be  saved.  "It  repented  the  Lord 
that  he  had  made  man  on  the  earth,  and  it  grieved 
Him  to  the  heart.  And  the  Lord  said,  I  will  destroy 
man  whom  I  have  created  from  off  the  face  of  the 
earth."  "  God  looked  upon  the  earth,  and  behold  it 
was  corrupt;"  and  God  said,  "The  earth  is  filled 
with  violence."  Such  is  the  charge  which  is  brought 
against  the  world  in  Genesis,  —  a  world  which  had 
forsaken  God,  and  upon  which  this  heavy  charge  must 
still  rest  so  long  as  it  is  a  Christless  world.  Dead, 
corrupt,  needing  to  be  buried  out  of  God's  sight,  is 
the  voice  which  we  hear  soundins:  throuofh  the  times 
of  the  patriarchs,  of  Moses,  of  the  Judges,  of  Samuel. 
Nor  do  we  miss  the  sad  refrain  in  the  minstrelsy  of 


TURNING   DEATH  INTO   LIFE.  321 

the  sweet  singer  of  Israel.  How  he  bemoans  the 
blight  which  has  fallen  on  his  own  soul,  in  the  fifty- 
first  Psalm  !  And  in  another  psalm,  catching  up  words 
which  echo  out  of  the  dim  past,  he  says :  "  The  Lord 
looked  down  from  heaven  upon  the  children  of  men, 
to  see  if  there  were  any  that  did  understand  and  seek 
God.  They  are  all  gone  aside,  they  are  together  be- 
come filthy ;  there  is  none  that  doeth  good,  no,  not 
one."  This  is  David's  indictment  against  himself  and 
against  the  world.  Does  it  not  warrant  the  picture 
which  Ezekiel  drew  of  the  valley  and  the  sea  ?  Look- 
ing on  that  picture,  would  not  Moses  and  the  prophets 
say,  "  It  is  true,  it  is  not  too  strong  a  symbol  of  what 
we  have  seen  or  felt,  and  have  recorded  as  the  spirit 
of  God  moved  us  "  ?  Does  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  him- 
self say  anything  less  than  this  in  his  parables,  in  his 
sermons,  in  his  private  talks,  in  which  he  so  accuses 
and  upbraids  both  the  Jews  and  the  Gentiles?  I 
think  St.  Paul  knew  as  much  of  his  own  heart,  and  of 
the  world's  heart,  as  any  man  has  ever  known.  Yet 
there  is  nothing  in  the  Old  Testament  or  in  the  gos- 
pels more  terrible  than  what  he  says  in  the  first,  sec- 
ond, and  third  of  Romans.  He  quotes  the  strongest 
words  of  the  holy  men  of  old,  and  to  these  he  adds 
others  of  appalling  severity,  prompted  by  what  he  had 
seen  of  heathen  life  in  his  mission  travels.  Yes,  dear 
friends,  you  must  go  outside  of  epistle,  outside  of 
gospel,  outside  of  psalm  and  prophecy,  outside  the 
lids  of  the  divine  book,  if  you  would  find  anything  to 
prove  that  Ezekiel's  picture  was  too  dark. 

And  if  you  go  outside  into  secular  history,  into  any 
or  all  of  the  Christless  civilizations,  whether  ancient 
or  modern,  what  then  ?  They  all  tell  the  same  story 
which   Ezekiel's  vision  told.     Where  is   Egypt  now  ? 


322  SERMONS. 

Look  on  her  faded  landscapes,  her  wretched,  starving 
people  ;  and  then  think  of  what  she  once  was  !  —  the 
mother  of  ancient  letters,  science  and  art,  as  her  pa- 
pyrus rolls,  her  buried  cities,  her  tombs,  her  obelisks, 
her  pyramids  show.  All  gone,  and  her  people  sunk 
into  a  dead  sea  of  beggary  and  vice  !  Her  far-off  be- 
sinninos,  like  the  fountains  of  Gihon  which  once  flowed 
into  Kidron,  are  to-day  like  the  sea  of  death,  and  the 
wasted  valley  full  of  the  graves  of  the  dead.  If  she 
is  getting  any  life,  is  starting  up  from  her  slumber  in 
these  recent  years  and  showing  any  small  capacity  for 
enterprise  and  thrift,  this  has  come  to  her  out  of  other 
nations  that  are  Christian  ;  the  blessed  waters,  which 
make  everything  they  touch  live,  are  beginning  to 
mingle  with  her  Christless  life.  Nineveh,  Babylon, 
ay,  Troy  and  Mycenae,  are  telling  the  same  story, 
once  vast  and  magnificent,  now  buried  out  of  sight ; 
once  ruling  over  nations,  now  the  abodes  of  the  robber 
and  owl  and  jackal ;  springing  forth  in  the  early  an- 
tiquity like  the  fountains  and  pools  which  watered  the 
gardens  of  Siloam,  now  like  the  valley  of  tombs  and 
graves  and  the  bitter  sea  of  death  to  which  that  valley 
leads  down.  The  story  which  these  particular  chap- 
ters of  ancient  history  tell,  the  whole  volume  tells. 
The  history  of  the  entire  world  is  like  the  history 
of  its  parts.  And  what  humanity  is,  such  is  every 
man,  —  a  dreary  abyss  of  desolation  and  death  is  the 
Christless  soul.  There  may  be  much  mechanical  and 
mental  activity  in  China,  in  Japan,  in  southern  India, 
but,  alas  !  how  little  spiritual  life  where  the  waters  of 
the  heavenly  river  have  not  gone  !  A  dead  world,  full 
of  dead  souls,  —  dead  because  cut  off  from  God  so  as 
no  more  to  live  by  the  infinite  life  in  Him, — is  the 
sentence  which  we  roundly  give  ;  and  we  find  no  real 


TURNING  DEATH  INTO  LIFE.  323 

contradiction  of  it,  but  much  to  confirm  it  eveiy where, 
in  the  Bible  and  out  of  the  Bible.  We  behold  actual 
humanity  spreading  away  down  and  before  us,  like  the 
valley  from  Jerusalem,  and  we  say,  "  Can  this  with- 
ered and  scorched  chasm  be  made  fruitful,  can  these 
deadly  waters  be  healed  ?  " 

The  answer  to  the  wondering  prophet,  from  his  di- 
vine Guide  who  takes  him  up  to  the  temple,  is,  that  the 
blessed  transformation  can  take  place.  In  Christ  all 
shall  be  made  alive.  Study  that  image  of  the  river, 
first  ankle-deep,  then  knee-deep,  then  to  the  loins,  then 
a  river  to  swim  in,  and  see  how  exactly  it  answers  to 
the  divine  life  in  Christ  which  has  already  begun  to 
flow  forth  into  the  world  with  renovating  power.  I 
do  not  believe  that  Ezekiel's  prophecy  is  something 
whose  fulfillment  is  yet  to  begin.  I  believe  that  the 
heavenly  waters  began  to  bubble  up  in  the  hearts  of 
those  whom  the  Holy  Spirit  led,  before  Christ  came 
to  our  world ;  I  believe  that  the  stream  grew  wider 
and  deeper  at  His  birth,  wider  and  deeper  still  when 
He  died,  when  He  rose  from  the  dead,  when  He  as- 
cended up,  —  according  to  His  own  saying,  ''  The 
works  which  I  do  shall  ye  do,  and  greater  works  shall 
ye  do,  because  I  go  to  the  Father." 

There  are  some  who  say  that  the  blessed  stream  is 
growing  smaller  and  smaller,  —  that  it  is  doomed  to 
sink  into  the  sand,  and  not  to  reappear  till  Christ's 
second  coming.  But  I  find  no  such  teaching  as  that 
in  the  proj)hecy ;  on  the  contrary,  just  the  opposite. 
The  river  grows,  it  does  not  diminish ;  it  grows  stead- 
ily, all  the  time  showing  a  larger  and  mightier  sweep 
through  the  valley.  In  just  what  stage  of  its  whole 
course  the  blessed  river  of  the  gospel  is,  we  cannot 
tell ;    it  may  be  a  long  time  before  the  living  fish 


324  SERMONS. 

shall  be  seen  swimming  in  the  sea.  But  there  is 
steady  progress,  and  has  been  ever  since  Christ  as- 
cended. Apostolic  missions  planted  a  leaven  in  the 
East,  the  savor  of  which  is  there  still.  The  early 
work  which  they  did  has  not  utterly  failed,  as  we 
sometimes  hastily  think.  Throughout  Syria  and 
Turkey  and  Persia,  up  the  Nile  and  on  the  deserts, 
memories  are  found,  traditions,  religious  customs  and 
beliefs,  which  recall  the  practice  and  doctrine  of  the 
first  Christian  disciples.  If  the  people  of  those  lands 
need  to  be  again  evangelized,  that  need  is  due  more 
to  their  degeneracy  and  superstition  under  oppressive 
governments  than  to  any  failure  of  the  gospel  among 
them.  At  the  lakes  of  Tanganyika  and  Nyanza,  in 
Central  Africa,  have  been  found  a  people  ready  to 
welcome  the  spirit  and  teachings  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. Whether  you  read  the  whole  history  of  Chris- 
tianity, its  history  since  the  time  of  Luther,  or  since 
the  first  missionaries  went  to  the  Sandwich  Islands, 
the  proofs  are  overwhelming.  The  vision  of  Ezekiel 
is  coming  true.  Where  was  spiritual  death  we  are 
seeing  more  and  more  of  spiritual  life.  The  desert  is 
blossoming.  The  river  of  salvation,  springing  forth 
by  the  altar  in  the  sanctuary,  is  on  its  way.  If  we  do 
not  see  "  Holiness  to  the  Lord"  written  on  the  bells  of 
the  horses,  we  see  something  very  much  like  it  even 
stamped  on  some  of  our  coins.  The  first  words  which 
throbbed  through  the  wires  of  the  telegraph  were, 
"  What  hath  God  wrought !  "  "  Peace  on  earth,  good- 
will toward  men,"  was  sent  flashing  under  the  sea  as 
soon  as  the  ocean  cable  was  laid.  One  of  the  great 
buildings  in  London,  whose  power  over  the  commerce 
of  the  world  is  everywhere  acknowledged,  has  written 
on  its  high  pediment  the  words,  "  The  earth  is  the 


TURNING  DEATH  INTO  LIFE,  325 

Lord's,  and  the  fullness  thereof."  There  is  no  mis- 
taking these  large  signs  of  the  spirit  of  our  day. 
Whatever  partial  failures,  or  retrograde  here  and 
there,  there  may  be,  the  activity  and  enterprise  of  the 
world  is,  on  the  whole,  steadily  receiving  into  itself 
more  and  more  of  the  spirit  of  Christ.  We  might  as 
well  doubt  the  motion  of  the  earth  as  the  progress  of 
Christ's  kingdom.  To  oppose  that  kingdom  is  like 
trying  to  turn  the  earth  back  in  its  orbit :  to  be  in  it 
and  of  it  is  to  live  safely  and  victoriously.  Should 
some  engineering  skill,  like  that  which  has  made  a 
path  for  commerce  through  Egyptian  sands,  also  let 
the  waters  of  the  great  sea  into  the  African  desert,  the 
gospel  of  Christ  will  ride  triumphant  on  their  tides  to 
ahnost  the  last  centre  of  Satan's  kingdom. 

AYe  have  seen  now,  dear  friends,  what  was  the  gen- 
eral scope  of  Ezekiel's  vision,  —  how  it  imaged  forth 
the  spiritual  state  of  a  Christless  world,  and  the  ren- 
ovation which  Christ  should  bring.  St.  John  had  a 
similar  vision  in  Patmos,  which  he  speaks  of  in  strik- 
ingly similar  terms.  Indeed,  he  helps  us  to  the  high 
and  true  meaning  of  what  Ezekiel  saw.  His  river 
proceeding  out  of  the  throne  of  God  and  the  Lamb  is 
that  which  gushed  up  by  the  altar  in  the  Temple.  His 
is  a  river  of  life,  and  so  was  that.  Ezekiel  says : 
"  And  by  the  river  on  the  bank  thereof,  on  this  side 
and  on  that  side,  shall  grow  all  trees  for  meat,  whose 
leaf  shall  not  fade,  neither  shall  the  fruit  thereof  be 
consumed :  it  shall  bring  forth  new  fruit  according  to 
his  months,  because  their  waters  they  issued  out  of 
the  sanctuary  ;  and  the  fruit  thereof  shall  be  for  meat, 
and  the  leaf  thereof  for  medicine."  This  is  what  the 
prophet  foretold,  and  this  is  what  the  apostle  saw  com- 
ing true  ;  for  John  says  :  "  And  he  showed  me  a  pure 


326  SERMONS. 

river  of  water  of  life,  clear  as  crystal,  proceeding  out 
of  the  throne  of  God  and  of  the  Lamb.  In  the  midst 
of  the  street  of  it,  and  on  either  side  of  the  river,  was 
there  the  tree  of  life,  which  bare  twelve  manner  of 
fruits,  and  yielded  her  fruit  every  month;  and  the 
leaves  of  the  tree  were  for  the  healing  of  the  nations." 
Thus  did  the  seer  in  Patmos  behold  the  gospel  which 
came  by  Christ  flowing  through  the  world,  and  giving 
life  and  joy  to  whatever  it  touched,  as  Ezekiel  had 
seen  so  long  before,  and  as  the  story  of  the  Christian 
ages  everywhere  confirms.  The  healing  stream  sprang 
up  by  the  altar ;  and  the  altar  in  the  Temple,  we  know, 
foreshadowed  the  cross  of  Christ.  Calvary,  then,  with 
its  cross  and  sacrifice,  is  the  centre  from  which  the 
world's  renovation  begins.  Wonderful  as  was  the 
birth  of  Christ,  we  are  not  to  look  to  that.  Wonder- 
ful as  was  His  daily  walk,  and  the  words  He  spake, 
our  salvation  does  not  begin  in  them.  It  is  under  the 
altar,  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  cross,  that  we  are  to 
find  the  fountain-head  of  the  stream  which  awakes 
and  blesses  the  world.  The  cross  and  its  sacrifice 
must  be  preached  as  the  way  by  which  God's  own  life 
comes  down  into  the  souls  of  men.  What  becomes  of 
your  river  when  you  leave  that  out,  that  which  is  its 
source  ?  "  God  forbid  that  I  should  glory  in  aught  else 
save  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  said  St.  Paul ; 
and  the  passion  which  men  have  for  multiplying  forms 
of  the  cross  in  architecture,  in  jewels,  and  other  per- 
sonal ornaments,  is  a  dumb  confession  of  the  universal 
human  heart  that  the  sacrifice  on  Calvary  is  God's 
most  precious  gift  to  His  sinning  children.  That  is 
the  unspeakable  gift.  That  takes  away  the  sins  of 
the  world.  That  brings  life  eternal  into  souls  dead  in 
sin.     Ezekiel  saw  the  stream  of  life  flowing  from  the 


TURNING   DEATH  INTO   LIFE.  327 

altar ;  John  saw  it  flowing  from  under  the  throne  in 
heaven.  God  and  the  Lamb  both  sat  on  that  throne. 
They  were  alike  concerned  in  giving  life  to  the  world. 
No  disagreement,  but  perfect  consent  and  union, 
marked  their  counsel  in  the  plan  which  they  laid 
before  the  world  was,  and  which  they  have  been  carry- 
ing out  through  all  the  ages  of  time. 

Yes,  dear  friends,  the  world's  redemption  is  not  of 
any  human  origin;  it  proceeds  from  the  throne  of 
God  and  the  Lamb.  They  preside  over  it  still.  It  is 
essentially  a  supernatural  and  divine  work,  as  was  the 
life-giving  river  which  Ezekiel  saw.  No  merely  nat- 
ural waters  could  awake  and  beautify  the  dead  valley 
of  the  Kidron ;  no  natural  stream  could  heal  the  sea 
in  which  nothing  lived.  The  Jordan  had  been  flow- 
ing down  into  that  dead  sea  from  its  beginning.  The 
beautiful  Jordan !  born  of  the  pure  snows  of  Lebanon 
and  Hermon,  bursting  forth  in  such  sudden  volume 
near  Csssarea  Philippi,  gathering  itself  into  the  clear 
lake  Merom,  flowing  on  amid  verdure  and  bloom  and 
golden  grain,  receiving  into  its  stream  the  waters  of 
Israel  and  Gilead,  making  the  fair  sea  of  Galilee 
which  our  Lord  so  loved,  winding  in  many  a  graceful 
fold  through  the  low  and  rich  valley  on  past  the  city 
of  palm-trees  I  —  this  Jordan,  so  oft  overflowing  all  its 
banks,  through  whose  channel  Israel  went  dry-shod, 
which  the  mantle  of  Elijah  divided  twice,  and  in 
which  the  Saviour  of  the  world  was  baptized,  could 
not  freshen  and  sweeten  the  sea  of  death.  So,  dear 
friends,  there  is  nothing  in  art  and  government  how- 
ever venerable,  nothing  in  mere  culture  however 
superb,  nothing  in  merely  human  or  natural  influences 
though  as  sacred  as  the  Jordan  itself,  which  can  de- 
liver and  save  the  world.     The  world  has  had  aU  this 


328  SERMONS. 

for  ages  on  ages,  is  still  having  it  to  repletion,  yet  at 
the  mouth  of  it  all  we  find  a  dead  sea.  The  river  of 
God,  the  stream  which  is  not  natural  but  supernatural, 
which  springs  from  the  altar,  from  the  cross,  from 
under  the  tlirone  of  God  and  the  Lamb,  must  do  the 
work.  The  spiritual  renaissance,  that  quickening  and 
adorning  of  human  society  which  is  to  give  us  the 
new  heaven  and  new  earth,  must  begin  from  God  the 
Father  and  God  the  Son,  and  must  have  the  life  of 
the  blessed  Trinity  in  it  all  the  way,  whether  it  be  to 
the  ankles,  or  to  the  knees,  or  to  the  loins,  or  a  river 
broad  and  deep  in  which  one  may  swim.  It  must  be 
full  of  the  life  of  God,  or  it  cannot  bring  healing  to 
the  sea,  or  it  cannot  make  whatever  thing  it  comes  to 
live,  or  there  will  not  be  on  its  banks  the  trees  whose 
fruit  is  for  meat  and  their  leaves  for  medicine.  What 
the  dead  seas  and  valleys  of  human  society  need ; 
what  you  and  I  need,  dear  friends,  in  order  that  we 
may  be  the  sons  of  God  which  He  made  us  to  be,  —  is 
not  more  culture,  not  more  loiowledge,  not  more  of 
that  refinement  which  the  skill  and  genius  of  man  may 
bring,  but  an  awakening,  cleansing,  and  sanctifying 
life  brought  down  by  the  Holy  Spirit  into  our  souls. 
May  the  grace  of  the  Lord  Jesus  evermore  keep  us  in 
that  life-giving  communion,  and  let  us  rejoice  in  the 
truth  that  our  fellowship  with  the  Spirit  is  in  a  king- 
dom which  takes  no  step  backward,  but  whose  power 
flows  out  and  on,  and  will  be  ever  vaster  and  mightier, 
till  it  has  made  all  things  new ! 


THE  PRAYERS  OF  THE  SAINTS. 

And  the  four  beasts  and  foiir  and  twenty  elders  fell  down  before 
the  Lamb,  having  every  one  of  them  harps  and  g-olden  vials  full  of 
odors,  which  are  the  prayers  of  saints.  —  Revelation  v.  8. 

The  prayers  of  tlie  saints.  Not  of  any  given  num- 
ber of  the  saints,  whether  in  heaven  or  on  earth,  but 
of  all  the  saints.  The  prayers  of  those  above  and  of 
those  below ;  of  those  now  alive  on  the  earth,  and  of 
those  who  have  lived  tliroughout  the  past  generations 
of  men.  Every  prayer  of  contrite  and  submissive 
spirits  that  has  been  lifted  up  since  the  time  when 
men  first  began  to  call  on  the  name  of  the  Lord  until 
now.  That  atmosphere  of  entreaty,  breathed  forth 
from  God-fearing  hearts,  which  ever  since  the  early 
twilight  of  history  has  embosomed  the  world.  The 
prayers  of  every  lonely  widow,  of  every  dependent 
orphan,  of  the  sailor  sinking  in  the  waves,  of  the  sol- 
dier dying  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  of  every  sick  or 
despised  or  forsaken  believer,  if  offered  in  faith,  are 
a  portion  of  the  prayers  of  the  saints.  Such  prayers 
as  those  of  Moses,  David,  Elijah,  Daniel,  —  who 
looked  forward  through  the  unfolding  history  of  the 
Hebrew  people.  That  prayer  of  the  lowly  Redeemer, 
in  which,  with  words  that  we  cannot  fathom.  He  com- 
mended His  disciples  to  the  Father.  The  prayers  of 
martyrs,  whereby,  upon  the  scaffold  or  in  the  flame, 
they  have  bequeathed  a  legacy  of  blessing  to  the 
world.  Prayers  of  missionaries,  such  as  they  offer  up 
on  quitting  their  native  shores,  and  in  the  dark  places 


330  SERMONS. 

which  are  full  of  the  habitations  of  cruelty.  The 
prayers  of  the  i^ersecuted,  —  such  as  those  of  the  prim- 
itive churches,  those  of  the  Waldenses  in  Italy,  the 
Lutherans  in  Germany,  the  Huguenots  in  France,  the 
Covenanters  in  Scotland,  the  Dissenters  in  England, 
—  all  these  are  a  part  of  the  j)recious  store  set  forth 
before  God  in  the  golden  vials.  Prayers  such  as  that 
offered  by  Robinson  on  board  the  Mayflower,  when 
he  committed  his  exiled  flock  to  the  care  of  a  storm- 
controlling  and  covenant-keeping  God;  such  as  that 
which  the  Pilgrims  themselves  breathed  up,  when  they 
knelt  on  the  icy  rock  and  implored  the  divine  guar- 
dianship for  them  and  their  infant  state.  A  vast  num- 
ber of  these  prayers  have  been  answered,  —  some  of 
them  almost  immediately,  even  while  the  saint  was 
speaking  ;  others  after  a  long  trial  of  patience  and 
much  "continual  coming."  But  a  vast  number  of 
them  also  are  yet  unanswered  ;  and  unto  this  store 
others  are  joining  themselves  daily,  going  up  from 
devout  hearts  like  the  mist  from  the  surface  of  all 
waters,  so  that  the  "  golden  vials  "  are  in  no  danger 
of  being  at  any  time  found  empty.  In  times  of  se- 
vere drought  in  nature,  we  know  that  the  streams  and 
springs  which  have  disappeared  have  only  been  trans- 
ferred to  the  upper  air,  where  in  due  time  they  will 
take  the  form  of  showers  and  descend  to  refresh  and 
beautify  the  earth.  So,  in  the  days  when  the  word  of 
the  Lord  is  precious,  —  when  there  is  no  open  vision, 
and  the  rain  of  spiritual  blessing  is  withheld,  —  we 
know  that  the  "  golden  vials  "  are  gathering  in  what  we 
miss  below,  and  that,  though  God  bears  long  with  His 
elect,  He  is  waiting  only  for  all  the  tithes  to  come  in. 
when  He  will  pour  out  the  blessing  until  we  lack  for 
room  to  receive  it.     The  prayers  of  the  founders  and 


THE  PRAYERS   OF   THE   SAINTS.  331 

supporters  of  tills  church,  who  have  passed  on  to  be 
nearer  our  common  Lord ;  the  prayers  of  fathers  and 
mothers,  of  grandparents,  and  of  remoter  ancestors  back 
far  as  we  care  to  trace  our  line  of  descent,  —  if  not  yet 
answered,  are  garnered  on  high ;  and,  so  far  as  they 
might  claim  to  be  called  prayers  of  faith,  they  at  this 
moment  hover  above  us,  only  waiting  God's  set  time 
when  they  will  descend  upon  us  in  showers  of  blessing. 
How  intimate,  nay,  how  identical,  the  church  mili- 
tant with  the  church  triumphant !  They  are  but  one 
kingdom  —  a  kingdom  not  of  this  world,  nor  of  any 
other  world,  but  a  kingdom  which  is  peace  and  joy  in 
the  Holy  Ghost ;  which  is  apprehended  not  by  sight, 
but  by  faith  ;  which  is  a  thing  of  inward  experience, 
not  a  thing  of  outward  discovery  or  attainment; 
which  is  everywhere  to  the  trusting  Christian,  coming 
into  his  open  heart  and  abiding  with  him ;  but  which 
is  nowhere  to  the  worldly  and  unbelieving,  though 
they  take  to  themselves  mugs,  and  explore  the  uni- 
verse in  quest  thereof.  It  is  one  family  with  one 
Father,  even  God,  and  one  elder  Brother,  even  Christ 
the  Saviour.  We  enter  it,  not  by  any  natural  pro- 
cess, but  by  the  regeneration  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  If 
men  say  "  here,"  or  "  there,"  we  go  not  out  after 
them.  Space  and  time  do  not  condition  the  inheri- 
tance of  the  believing.  It  is  now  and  here,  as  it  al- 
ways has  been  and  always  will  be,  to  him  that  hear- 
eth  the  voice  saying  "  To-day,"  and  hardeneth  not  his 
heart.  It  is  natural  for  us  to  conceive  of  heaven  as 
something  local,  and  there  is  a  certain  very  precious 
truth  in  that  conception.  But  there  is  also  truth  in 
that  idea  which  dissociates  it  from  the  idea  of  locality. 
We  may  regard  it  as  a  place  which  we  travel  to- 
wards, and  from  which  we  are  excluded  in  this  life. 


332  SERMONS. 

But  it  is  not  remote  ;  we  are  not  shut  out  from  it. 
The  fault  is  in  our  vision,  in  our  perception.  Our 
eyes  are  holden.  We  see  but  dimly,  not  because 
there  is  lack  of  light,  but  because  there  is  lack  of  sen- 
sibility in  the  eye  of  our  spirit.  The  warm  sun  is 
around  us,  but  the  nerves  of  feeling  in  our  souls  are 
so  dead  that  they  seem  chilled  through  and  through. 
To  say  that  we  are  getting  nearer  heaven,  is  only  an- 
other form  of  saying  that  we  apprehend  more  clearly 
what  has  always  been  "  nigh  "  us.  We  speak  of  the 
saints  in  light  as  standing  in  the  immediate  presence 
of  Clirist,  and  of  ourselves  as  yet  pilgrims  in  a  far-off 
land  ;  but  the  real  difference  is,  that  they  have  learned 
to  walk  altogether  by  faith,  while  we  yet  walk  more 
or  less  by  sight.  We  are  in  the  presence  of  Christ  no 
less  than  they  ;  nor  can  we,  any  more  than  they,  go 
from  His  presence,  though  we  ascend  into  heaven  or 
descend  into  the  depths,  or  take  the  wings  of  the 
morning  and  dwell  in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea. 
Wherever  we  are,  God's  hand  sustains  us,  and  His 
right  hand  doth  hold  us.  This  oneness,  this  nearness 
of  all  that  are  Christ's  ;  this  blending  of  heaven  and 
earth  in  a  single  communion,  whose  centre  always  is 
everywhere,  —  stands  out  more  clearly  to  our  unsancti- 
fied  minds,  as  we  think  of  our  petitions,  uniting  in  one 
cloud  of  incense  with  the  petitions  of  every  other  holy 
heart,  and  rising  continually  before  God,  with  a  sweet- 
smelling  savor,  out  of  those  "  golden  vials  "  that  con- 
tain the  prayers  of  all  saints. 

But  this  is  not  all.  That  worship,  going  on  always 
before  God,  not  only  includes  the  whole  church,  visi- 
ble and  invisible :  it  also  has  respect  to  events  which 
are  to  occur  on  the  earth.  The  prayers  of  the  saints 
are  for  blessings  to  be  bestowed,  and  victories  to  be 


THE   PRAYERS    OF   THE   SAINTS.  833 

achieved,  not  in  a  future  eternity  but  in  time.  Nearly- 
all  the  grand  scenes  pictured  to  us  in  the  Apocalypse 
are  to  be  enacted  on  the  globe  we  now  inhabit.  The 
holy  city,  the  new  Jerusalem,  is  to  "  come  down  out  of 
heaven  from  God."  The  earth  is  to  be  purified  and 
renewed,  and  God  and  Christ  are  to  dwell  with  men. 
They  that  sleep  in  Jesus  shall  be  raised,  and  they  that 
are  alive  on  the  earth  shall  be  changed  at  the  coming 
of  the  Lord.  Not  in  some  far-off  region,  at  an  infi- 
nite remove  from  our  planet,  but  here,  visible  to  the 
inhabitants  of  this  terrestrial  ball,  shall  be  the  new 
heavens  and  the  new  earth,  with  no  more  sea.  Those 
prayers,  rising  as  the  smoke  of  sacrifice  ever  since  the 
dawn  of  time,  are  to  be  answered  in  the  conversion  of 
souls  to  Christ,  —  in  the  bringing  of  all  knees  to  bow, 
and  every  tongue  to  confess  that  He  is  Lord ;  in  the 
spreading  and  triumphing  of  the  gospel  throughout 
the  world ;  in  the  purification,  upbuilding,  and  uni- 
versal dominion  of  the  Redeemer's  kingdom  ;  when 
the  war-worn  hosts  of  the  faithful  are  permitted  to  put 
off  their  armor  and  gird  themselves  with  the  gar- 
ment of  praise,  —  when  from  every  distant  shore  and 
island,  and  rocky  fastness  and  desert  plain,  whither 
the  missionaries  of  the  cross  have  gone  to  publish  the 
glad  tidings,  there  shall  go  up  the  joyful  acclaim, 
"  The  kino'doms  of  the  world  have  become  the  kins^- 
doms  of  our  Lord  and  of  His  Christ."  To  that  con- 
summation, and  everything  preparatory  thereto,  and 
not  to  something  that  shall  be  when  time  is  no  longer, 
the  prayers  of  the  saints  have  respect.  Forgetting 
the  joys  of  the  immortality  before  them,  even  those 
now  standing  by  the  throne  bend  downward  their 
eyes  toward  this  lower  creation,  which  groaneth  and 
travaileth  in  pain,  and  pray  for  its  deliverance  into 
the  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God. 


334  SERMONS. 

Observe  that  it  is  the  prayers  of  the  saints,  not 
prayers  to  the  saints,  that  have  so  constant  a  respect 
to  the  welfare  of  our  world.  There  is  no  warrant 
here  for  that  popish  corruption  whereby  the  favor  of 
God  is  made  to  be  dependent  on  the  goodwill  of  our 
fellow-creatures,  —  nothing  to  indicate  that  we  must 
propitiate  saint  this  and  saint  that,  by  building  them 
a  cathedral,  or  endoAving  a  convent,  or  perpetual  mass 
in  their  name.  No  spirit,  whether  out  of  the  body  or 
still  in  the  body,  that  is  worthy  to  be  counted  among 
the  saints,  needs  to  be  hired  to  perform  the  blessed 
service  of  prayer.  All  saints  pray  ;  but  they  pray 
to  God,  not  to  one  another.  And  all  the  motive  and 
all  the  reward  they  ask  is,  that  God  would  keep, 
through  His  own  name,  them  that  are  Christ's,  and 
make  all  men  see  and  share  the  blessedness  of  believ- 
ing in  Him. 

The  imagery  employed  in  the  text  is  eminently  Jew- 
ish. The  writer  was  a  descendant  of  Abraham.  He 
had  been  accustomed  all  his  life  to  the  imposing  Tem- 
ple service  established  by  Moses.  He  was  familiar 
with  the  lives  of  the  ancient  believers.  He  loved  to 
lose  himself  in  long  and  absorbing  meditations  upon 
the  wonderful  history  of  the  Hebrew  nation.  His  cast 
of  mind  was  Oriental,  and  the  sentiment  of  nationality 
was  remarkably  strong  in  him.  It  was  natural  that 
his  revelations,  which  God  gave  him  during  his  exile 
in  Patmos,  should  be  given  to  the  world  through  the 
imagery  and  types  of  the  Old  Testament.  Hence  we 
have  the  "  four  and  twenty  elders,"  —  corresponding 
to  the  leaders  of  the  twenty-four  courses  of  priests  in 
the  Temple  at  Jerusalem.  Hence  we  have  the  "  golden 
vials,"  —  not  such  vessels  as  our  English  word  "  vial  " 
might   seem   to  indicate,  but  broad,  open  bowls  or 


THE   PRAYERS    OF    THE   SAINTS.  335 

dishes,  such  as  the  Jewish  priests  made  use  of,  which 
were  beaten  out  of  fine  gohl,  and  in  which  the  incense 
to  be  sprinkled  on  the  sacrifice  was  brought  to  the 
altar.     Hence  "  the  four  beasts,"  —  not  "beasts"  in 
our  sense  of  the  word.     Far  from  it.     Not  creatures 
below  us   on   the   scale  of   being,   but  inconceivably 
above    us.     Archangels,    cherubim,    seraphic   beings, 
such  as  are  often  named  in  the  prophecies  of  the  Old 
Testament,  and  a  symbol  of  which  overshadowed  the 
"mercy  seat"   on  the  ark  of    the  covenant.     These 
super-angelic  spirits  fall  down  continually  before  "  the 
throne  of  the  Lamb,"  thus  recognizing  His  sovereignty 
and  divinity ;  and  then,  at  a  farther  remove  from  the 
supreme  glory,  the  twenty-four  leaders  of  all  the  re- 
deemed who  worship  Christ  fall  down  with  their  faces 
also  toward  the  throne ;  and  every  seraph,  and  every 
elder,  as  though  conscious  of  his  personal  un worthi- 
ness, has  a  "  golden  bowl  "  full  of  odorous  incense, 
which  he  brings  with  him,  that  his  offering  may  be  ac- 
ceptable unto  the  Lamb.     That  incense  —  the  prayers 
of  the   saints  —  strengthens  the  plea  of  each  seraph 
and  elder  ;  so  that,  while  striking  their  harps  in  praise 
of  what  the  Lamb  has  already  accomplished,  they  are 
also  emboldened  to  ask  for  further  mercies,  saying, 
"  Thou  hast  redeemed  us  to  God  by  thy  blood  out  of 
every  kindred,  and  tongue,  and  people,  and  nation, 
and  hast  made  us  unto  our  God  kings  and  priests ; 
and  we  shall  reign  on  the  earth."     "  We  shall  reign 
on  the  earth."     That  is  the  glorious  result  which  the 
adoration  of  the  Lamb  contemplates.     "  We,"  —  that 
is,  those  whom  we  represent ;  the  saints  of  the  Most 
High  God ;  the  whole  company  of  the  good,  of  the 
meek  and  lowly  in  heart,  who  follow  Christ,  bearing 
His  cross,  manifesting  His  spirit,  doing  not  their  own 


386  SERMONS. 

will,  but  the  will  of  their  Father  in  heaven.  Evil 
shall  be  overcome.  Righteousness  shall  possess  the 
earth,  and  the  abundance  of  the  sea  shall  be  converted 
unto  God.  The  garments  rolled  in  blood  shall  ]3ass 
away.  In  all  the  holy  mountain  there  shall  be  noth- 
ing to  hurt  or  destroy.  The  earth  shall  be  full  of  the 
abundance  of  peace.  And  this  glorious  transforma- 
tion —  this  change  from  confusion  to  order,  from  tur- 
moil to  tranquillity,  from  hate  to  love,  from  sullen 
enmity  against  God  to  completeness  of  holiness  and 
joy  —  is  to  come  in  answer  to  the  prayers  of  the  saints  ; 
in  answer  to  the  united  and  never-ceasing  petitions  of 
all  who  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  —  the  petitions 
of  every  one  that  worshipeth  the  Father  in  spirit  and 
truth,  whether  in  this  temple  or  at  Jerusalem,  whether 
yet  among  things  seen  and  temporal  or  passed  on  to 
things  unseen  and  eternal ;  for  all  such  are  a  part  of 
the  gi-eat  company  of  saints  whose  prayers  are  for- 
ever replenishing  the  golden  vials  in  the  hands  of  the 
elders ;  and  it  is  such,  of  every  nation  and  every 
degree,  that  the  Father  seeketh  to  worship  Him. 

1.  Here,  then,  is  an  encouragement  to  all  Christians 
to  continue  instant  in  prayer ;  and  an  admonition, 
also,  against  refraining  from  prayer.  Any  neglect,  in 
this  particidar,  weakens  the  plea  with  which  the  elders 
approach  the  throne.  They  may  strike  their  harps, 
but  the  music  lacks  volume  if  our  voices  be  not  joined 
thereunto.  They  may  offer  the  sacrifice,  but  there  is 
not  enough  of  incense  in  the  golden  vessels  to  send  up 
a  sweet- smelling  cloud  before  God.  When  Christians 
cease  to  pray,  the  supplies  of  the  armies  of  God  fail 
them.  They  miss  their  weapons,  and  make  but  feeble 
and  disastrous  fight.  Then  it  is  that  their  great  enemy 
comes  out  against  them,  and  they  are  overcome  and 


THE   PRAYERS   OF   THE   SAINTS.  337 

dispersed.  If  the  saints  cease  praying,  it  is  as  if  the 
ocean  should  cease  sending  up  its  vapors,  or  the  earth 
its  mists.  The  "  cloudy  cisterns  "  soon  are  empty  in 
our  Lord's  kingdom  ;  the  heavens  are  brass  above  us, 
and  the  earth  is  iron  mider  our  feet,  and,  for  want  of 
the  moisture  it  craves,  every  plant  in  the  garden  we 
are  set  to  cultivate  droops  and  decays.  No  divine 
quicken  ings  come  to  the  churches.  We  hear  not  the 
voice  of  penitence,  nor  the  song  of  new-born  souls. 
The  ark  of  God  withdraws  behind  the  host,  and  the 
world  stands  still,  or  goes  backward,  instead  of  going 
forward  to  the  day  of  its  redemption.  Every  prayer, 
even  the  feeblest  and  the  least,  is  needed  to  keep  ''  the 
golden  vials  "  always  full  to  overflowing.  How  inspir- 
ing the  thought  that  your  prayers  and  mine,  if  put 
up  in  faith  and  sincerity,  make  but  one  sacrifice  with 
those  of  the  worshipers  before  the  throne  1  How  tre- 
mendous the  thought  that  our  neglect  to  pray  weakens 
their  argument  as  they  approach  the  Lamb  in  be- 
half of  this  yet  unpurified  world !  Here  is  a  service 
which  infant  lips  can  perform.  Here  is  a  power,  able 
to  move  the  arm  of  God,  which  the  lowliest  maid- 
servant can  wield.  Here  is  an  all-prevailing  sacrifice, 
which  neither  the  sick,  nor  the  unknown,  nor  the  un- 
learned, have  any  right  to  withhold.  God  cannot  so 
afflict  you  with  poverty  and  disease,  and  men  cannot 
so  forget  you,  and  despise  your  humble  lot,  but  that 
you  may  give,  or  refuse  to  give,  a  service  on  which 
the  perfection  of  the  church  and  the  salvation  of  the 
world  depend.  Neglected  widow,  forgotten  invalid, 
bowed  and  withered  saint,  the  prayers  of  sincerity 
and  faith  which  you  are  offering  daily  with  your  lips, 
or  breathing  in  your  heart,  are  all  gathered  as  precious 
incense  on  high ;  they  are  set  forth  continually  in  the 


338  SERMONS. 

golden  vials  brought  by  the  elders  to  the  Lanib  that 
was  slain ;  and  as  you  pray  without  ceasing,  or  neg- 
lect prayer,  so  this  world  goes  forward  or  backward 
in  its  way  to  the  final  restitution. 

2.  As  with  prayer,  so  also  with  Christian  labor.  This 
has  an  encouragement  mighty  and  inspiring  in  the 
truth  of  the  text.  When  the  sower  goes  forth  to  sow, 
he  knows  that  the  strong  and  constant  forces  of  nature 
cooperate  with  him,  and  that  they  will  bring  the  seed- 
germs  he  scatters,  through  all  the  processes  of  growth 
and  ripening,  to  a  harvest.  So  with  the  laborer  for 
Christ.  All  the  members  of  the  mystical  body  suffer 
with  him  and  rejoice  with  him.  The  vast  reservoir  of 
blessing,  out  of  which  quickening  influences  are  to 
descend  on  his  efforts,  is  kept  constantly  full.  The 
power  of  the  prayers  of  the  saints  reinforces  his  labors 
day  by  day,  and  will  render  them  effectual  in  their 
season.  Every  prayer  of  every  missionary  in  the  far- 
off  wilderness  or  island  co-works  with  him.  The 
morning  and  evening  sacrifice  in  all  the  Christian 
families  of  the  world,  the  voice  of  petition  and  en- 
treaty going  up  every  Sabbath  from  unnumbered 
sanctuaries,  —  these,  and  the  voice  that  is  as  the  voice 
of  many  waters  before  the  throne,  hover  like  a  fer- 
tilizing cloud  above  each  toiling  disciple  ;  these  bear 
up  our  feeble  strength  ;  these,  with  all  their  blessed 
power,  add  to  the  force  of  each  Christian  arm ;  this 
infinite,  and  constant,  and  everlasting  help  is  yours, 
and  mine,  and  every  earnest  believer's,  while  we  go 
about  laboring,  giving,  instructing,  exhorting,  entreat- 
ing, in  the  hope  that  God's  will  may  yet  be  done,  even 
on  this  sin-blighted  earth,  as  it  is  done  in  heaven. 
Could  anything  be  more  sacred,  or  girt  with  holier 
and  more  solemn  sanctions,  than  the  Christian  pro- 


THE  PRAYERS  OF   THE  SAINTS.  339 

fession?  How  vast  the  motive,  bearing  upon  the 
weakest  disciple,  to  be  steadfast,  immovable,  always 
abounding  in  the  work  of  the  Lord !  What  an  un- 
speakable opportunity  we  slight  —  what  an  ocean  of 
holy  and  divine  help  we  set  at  naught  —  when  we 
faint,  or  repine,  or  slacken  our  zeal  in  all  pious  and 
godly  endeavors!  They  that  be  with  us  are  more 
than  they  that  be  against  us.  We  may  seem  to 
earth-bound  eyes  to  go  out  single-handed  to  the  battle, 
but  as  soon  as  the  scales  fall,  and  our  faith  looks 
abroad  with  clarified  vision,  we  behold  the  mountains 
round  about  us  full  of  chariots  and  horses.  Who  of 
us,  seeing  this  great  cloud  of  witnesses  and  heljDers, 
can  forbear  laying  aside  every  weight,  and  his  easily 
besetting  sins,  and  running  with  patience  the  race 
whose  prize  is  an  immortal  crown  ? 

3.  And  all  these  prayers  and  labors,  filling  the 
heavenly  temple  with  their  incense,  are  for  you,  my 
unbelie\ang  brother.  For  you  the  four  seraphs  near- 
est the  throne,  bending  evermore  to  the  Lamb.  For 
you  the  golden  vials,  full  of  the  prayers  of  all  saints, 
in  the  hands  of  the  four-and-twenty  elders,  who  cease 
not,  day  nor  night,  offering  their  adoration  and  en- 
treaty unto  Him  that  sitteth  on  the  throne.  When 
shall  your  single  will  cease  resisting  this  great  persua- 
sion ?  How  long  —  O  Lord,  how  long  !  —  shall  it  be 
true  that  the  great  altar  sends  up  its  sweet  incense,  — 
the  prayers  of  your  pious  ancestors,  of  your  godly 
ministers  now  on  high,  of  your  kindred  and  friends 
that  remain,  of  the  whole  company  of  saints  in  heaven 
and  on  earth,  who  bend  over  you  so  tenderly  to-day, 
as  they  ever  have,  and  ever  will  till  time  shall  be  no 
longer,  —  how  long  shall  all  this  be  true,  and  you  yet 
be  found  in  your  sins  ? 


THE  STORY  OF  NAAMAN,  AND  ITS  LESSON. 

So  he  turned  and  went  away  in  a  rag-e.  —  2  Kings  v.  12. 

We  do  not  wonder  at  all  that  Naaman  was  offended. 
He  was  a  mighty  man.  He  was  commander  of  the 
armies  of  Syria,  and  had  often  seen  the  Israelites  fly 
in  terror  before  him.  He  came  with  a  splendid  reti- 
nue, with  horses  and  chariots,  bringing  gold  and  silver 
and  changes  of  raiment.  A  letter  from  his  sovereign- 
had  introduced  him  to  the  king  of  Israel,  and  that 
king  had  sent  him  to  Elisha  ;  and  the  object  of  all  this 
ceremony  and  display  was  that  he  might  be  cured  of 
a  leprosy.  There  he  stood,  with  his  warlike  and  bril- 
liant array,  before  the  humble  dwelling  of  the  prophet. 
He  had  it  all  planned  in  his  own  mind  just  how  he 
should  be  cured.  The  man  of  God  would  come  out ; 
would  feel  himself  greatly  honored  by  such  an  im- 
posing visit ;  would  receive  the  truly  royal  present 
brought  for  him ;  would  strike  his  hand  upon  the 
spot  that  was  diseased,  and  then  would  dismiss  the 
famous  chieftain,  recovered  from  his  leprosy,  to  ride 
away  in  the  same  pompous  style  in  which  he  came. 
These  anticipations  were  all  very  natural  in  Naaman. 
But  what  was  his  reception  ?  Elisha  does  not  appear  ; 
he  does  not  even  invite  the  renowned  visitor  into  the 
house.  He  sends  out  a  servant  to  tell  Naaman  to  go 
and  dip  himself  seven  times  in  the  river  Jordan.  "  Is 
this  all  ?  "  we  can  fancy  that  proud  warrior  saying  to 
himself.     "  Will  not  he  even  see  me  ?     Does  not  he 


STORY   OF  NAAMAN,  AND  ITS  LESSON.     341 

know  that  I  am  the  great  Syrian  general  ?  that  I  have 
come  all  the  way  from  Damascus  to  be  cured  ?  that  I 
have  brought  letters  from  my  king  to  his  king,  and 
that  his  king  has  sent  me  to  him  ?  Has  he  forgotten 
that  his  country  pays  tribute  to  mine  ?  Does  he  so 
disdain  the  costly  present  I  have  brought  him,  and  the 
regal  display  with  which  I  do  him  honor?  Will  he 
so  insult  my  patriotism  as  to  send  me  to  his  national 
river,  as  though  there  were  not  purer  and  lovelier 
streams  in  my  own  land?  "  Thus  was  the  old  soldier 
disappointed,  surprised,  and  wounded  in  his  most  tender 
point ;  and  ''  so  he  turned  and  went  away  in  a  rage." 

Now  do  not  suppose  that  we  are  repelled  from  Naa- 
man  on  account  of  this  sudden  outbreak  of  passion. 
It  the  rather  draws  us  toward  him.  He  is  indeed  in 
many  respects  a  model  character.  He  acted  naturally 
from  the  beginning ;  he  came  to  the  prophet's  door  in 
such  state  as  befitted  his  position,  with  such  presents 
and  appointments  as  became  a  leader  of  armies,  ask- 
ing a  favor.  You  would  have  felt  very  much  as  he 
did  in  the  same  circumstances ;  and  to  have  concealed 
your  chagrin  would  have  been  sheer  h}^ocrisy.  He 
showed  what  was  in  his  heart  from  first  to  last ;  and 
therefore  he  could  be  trusted.  He  was  not  angered 
so  much  on  his  own  account,  but  because  he  thought 
contempt  had  been  sho^\Ti  for  his  country  and  sov- 
ereign, because  his  generous  effort  to  show  great 
respect  for  Elisha  had  been  treated  as  a  thing  of  no 
consequence.  He  was  passionate,  but  not  deceitful ; 
he  would  not  brook  an  insult  from  anybody,  yet  he 
was  ready  to  converse  with,  and  be  influenced  by,  the 
humblest  mortal. 

There  was  in  his  family  at  Damascus  "  a  little  maid  " 
who  waited  on  his  wife.     This  maid  had  been  cap- 


342  SERMONS. 

tured  by  the  Syrians,  in  some  of  their  wars  with  the 
Hebrews ;  and,  in  accordance  with  the  barbarous  cus- 
tom of  the  times,  sold  into  slavery.  The  poor  captive 
recollected  that  she  had  heard  of  a  certain  "  man  of 
God  "  in  her  native  land,  who  could  raise  the  dead  and 
cure  the  most  dangerous  diseases ;  and  one  day  she 
ventured  to  speak  her  thoughts  to  her  mistress,  and 
thus  the  matter  came  to  the  hearing  of  Naaman.  It 
shows  how  lowly  was  her  position,  and  how  vague  was 
Naaman's  idea  of  the  way  in  which  he  was  to  be  cured, 
that  he  came  first  to  the  king  of  Israel,  supposing  him 
to  be  the  one  who  coidd  heal  the  leprosy.  But  he  did 
not  sneer,  as  many  would  have  done,  at  the  story  of 
the  little  captive.  Her  knowledge  was  very  indefinite  ; 
and  she  was  a  personage  whom  few  in  the  position  of 
Naaman  would  condescend  to  notice ;  yet  he  listened 
to  the  report  which  came  through  her,  and  believed  it, 
and  made  up  his  mind  to  act  jjromptly  in  accordance 
with  her  suggestions.  We  have  already  alluded  to 
the  magnificent  scale  in  which  he  carried  out  his  pur- 
pose ;  and  also  to  the  anger  which  he  felt  at  finding 
his  grand  preparation  a  thing  of  so  little  account  in 
the  eyes  of  the  prophet.  But  the  storm  did  not  last 
long  ;  its  very  violence  caused  it  to  be  of  short  con- 
tinuance. He  was  not  the  man  to  harbor  resentment, 
to  let  his  bosom  become  the  permanent  abode  of  ill- 
wiU  and  hate.  That  corrupt  nature  which  he  was 
born  with,  and  which  we  possess,  had  its  way,  and  now 
he  was  ready  to  be  reasoned  with  again  ;  nor  did  he 
require  to  be  approached  by  some  great  personage  in 
order  to  be  reached.  He  listened  to  his  servants  once 
more.  Good  advice,  no  matter  whence  it  came,  was 
never  lost  on  him.  They  showed  him  how  unwise  it 
was  for  him  to  dictate  in  an  affair  of  this  kind.     He 


STORY  OF  XAAMAy,Ai\D   ITS  LESSON.      343 

saw  that  he  had  been  marking  out  a  course  of  proced- 
ure in  his  own  mind,  and  that  he  had  been  expecting 
the  prophet  to  follow  that  course  step  by  step.  Hence 
his  disappointment  and  the  wound  to  his  vanity.  He 
knew  that  the  leprosy  was  upon  him.  It  had  not 
troubled  him  much  as  yet,  but  it  was  steadily  making 
progress  in  his  system.  He  had  done  wrong;  his 
treatment  of  the  Divine  message  was  very  inconsid- 
erate and  foolish.  Certainly  one  who  could  cure  that 
terrible  malady  ought  to  be  allowed  to  do  it  in  his  own 
way.  "  I  will  obey  him ;  I  will  forget  my  expecta- 
tions. I  will  cease  demanding  some  great,  some  mys- 
terious, some  incomprehensible  thing ;  I  will  follow 
the  simple  prescription ;  I  will  go  and  dip  in  Jordan 
seven  times,  since  it  is  my  only  hope." 

Oh,  how  grateful  was  that  Syrian  lord  when  he  re- 
turned to  Elisha !  He  had  lost  all  his  anger  ;  he  had 
forgotten  all  about  nice  points  of  etiquette.  He  could 
not  go  home  till  he  had  seen  the  prophet  and  poured 
out  his  thanksgivings.  What  did  he  care  for  methods 
now,  since  the  object  was  accomplished?  He  was 
ready  to  fall  down  at  Elisha's  feet  and  be  his  servant ; 
he  would  gladly  stay  in  the  land  of  Israel,  and  become 
a  Hebrew  by  adoption.  But  the  king  of  Syria  could 
not  spare  his  chief  captain:  Naaman  must  return. 
Yet  he  will  renounce  idolatry  ;  he  will  worship  Rim- 
mon  no  longer.  "  The  Lord  forgive  me  that  I  must, 
as  a  loyal  servant,  attend  my  prince  when  he  goes  in 
to  bow  before  false  gods.  And  since  your  country 
cannot  be  my  country,  let  me  load  two  mules  with 
earth  taken  from  before  your  door  to  carry  home  with. 
me,  that  I  may  look  on  it  daily,  and  have  it  placed 
about  me  at  my  burial,  —  thus  showing  to  all  men 
that  I  have  yielded  my  heart  at  least  to  the  God  of 
Israel." 


344  SERMONS. 

No  doubt  you  have  anticipated  my  object  in  refer- 
ring to  this  passage  of  Okl  Testament  history.  There 
are  points  in  it  which  bear  a  close  analogy  to  your 
own  case,  if  you  have  not  yet  found  a  Saviour. 

We  are  all  the  subject  of  a  spiritual  leprosy,  and 
the  business  of  life  is  to  obtain  deliverance  from  that 
malady.  The  manner  in  which  we  are  to  do  this  is 
set  forth  most  distinctly  in  the  Scriptures,  and  it  would 
be  plain  to  all  men  if  they  acted  up  to  their  convic- 
tions promptly. 

The  way  of  salvation  seldom  perplexes  a  man  when 
he  sees  it  for  the  first  time  presented.  It  is  because 
he  delays ;  it  is  because  he  has  a  natural  reluctance  to 
the  duty ;  it  is  because  he  mingles  with  it  much  that 
is  extraneous  and  speculates  about  it,  and  compares 
different  modes  of  stating  it,  and  supposes  that  other 
people's  experience  must  be  his  experience,  —  that  he 
becomes  confused  and  discouraged.  Has  it  not  proved 
so  in  your  case,  my  hearer?  In  boyhood,  at  your 
mother's  knee,  or  at  some  other  point  equally  sacred, 
you  remember  that  the  question  of  religious  duty 
came  distinctly  before  your  mind.  You  saw  just 
what  it  was :  nothing  in  it  puzzled  you.  You  could 
have  attended  to  the  matter  without  any  bewilderment, 
but  you  had  certain  childish  schemes  afoot  which  you 
saw  it  would  interfere  with,  and  so  you  postponed  it. 
Since  that  time  you  have  read  and  heard  a  great  deal 
on  the  subject  of  religion  :  sermons  on  the  sovereignty, 
decrees,  and  providence  of  God  ;  on  the  nature  of  re- 
generation, repentance,  and  faith  ;  on  human  depravity, 
—  the  agency  of  the  Spirit,  what  God  does,  what  Christ 
does,  and  what  man  does,  in  the  work  of  salvation. 
You  have  heard  a  great  many  persons  relate  their  ex- 
perience ;  and  there  was  always  something  marvelous 


STORY  OF  NAAMAN,   AND  ITS  LESSON.    345 

in  it,  some  sudden  illumination,  some  voice  from 
heaven,  some  upspringing  and  overflowing  peace  of 
soul.  You  have  read  religious  biographies,  and  ac- 
counts of  remarkable  conversions,  in  religious  papers. 
And  you  have  forgotten  all  along  that  these  were  ex- 
ceptional cases ;  that  the  very  fact  of  their  being  made 
public  proved  their  uncommonness.  They  were  not 
examples  of  the  great  mass  of  conversions.  Hence 
the  influence  of  all  these  things  upon  you,  while  good 
in  one  respect,  was  in  another  respect  very  injurious. 
All  this  various  reading,  and  hearing,  and  speculating 
served  to  keep  the  general  subject  of  duty  to  God 
before  you,  but  at  the  same  time  you  fell  into  perplex- 
ity 5  you  lost  that  clear  idea  of  what  it  is  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian which  you  had  in  boyhood,  and  became  entangled 
in  a  thousand  non-essential  inquiries.  Will  you  not 
admit  that  you  have  mapped  out  a  certain  experience 
in  your  own  mind  ?  You  have  anticipated  the  way  by 
which  God  would  lead  you  into  His  kingdom.  "  I 
shall  have  so  much  conviction  of  sin,"  you  have  said ; 
"  I  shall  feel  thus  and  thus  toward  God  and  Christ, 
and  shall  have  such  and  such  experiences  of  comfort, 
joy,  and  peace."  And  now  you  are  waiting  to  have 
these  fancies,  for  they  are  in  a  large  part  fancies  of 
your  own  mind,  made  good  to  you.  You  have  marked 
out  a  course,  in  your  imagination,  for  the  Spirit  to  take 
when  He  comes  to  save  you.  And  hence  you  are  un- 
wdlling  to  accept  any  aid  which  seems  to  come  through 
a  different  channel.  You  visit  the  sanctuary  again  and 
again.  You  are  like  Naaman  at  the  door  of  Elisha, 
willing  to  be  saved,  perhaps  anxious  to  make  your 
peace  with  God.  But  your  anticipations  are  not  met ; 
you  do  not  feel  as  you  expected  to ;  no  great  and  new 
light  flashes  into  your  mind ;  you  hear  a  few  plain 


346  SERMONS. 

duties  prescribed  wliicli  seem  very  mucli  like  drudgery. 
And  so  you  are  disappointed,  offended,  or  disheart- 
ened. You  go  away  and  come  again ;  and  still  you 
do  not  find  the  marvelous  experience  which  you  had 
looked  for.  And  so  you  plod  on  through  the  weary 
months,  lost  in  a  wilderness  of  misgivings  and  anxie- 
ties. 

Now,  my  hearer,  are  you  willing  to  be  led  out  of 
that  tangled  path?  Will  you  leave  those  side  ques- 
tions and  those  cherished  ideas  as  to  how  God  must 
save  you,  if  he  saves  you  at  all ;  and  will  you  come 
out  into  open  ground  and  consider  what  this  matter 
of  religious  duty  is  when  stripped  of  all  that  is  non- 
essential ?  This  is  your  first  step.  You.  must  throw 
away  all  your  anticipations  of  what  it  is  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian, and  stand  waiting  for  God's  direction.  "  Lord, 
what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do  ?  I  now  give  up  my 
foolish  imaginations.  I  have  been  prescribing  a  course 
for  thee,  rather  than  yielding  myself  to  be  led  in  such 
a  way  as  thou  shouldst  choose  for  me.  I  have  been 
looking  for  mysterious  changes  and  for  sudden  ecsta- 
sies ;  but  they  have  not  come,  and  therefore  I  have 
sat  still  and  have  been  vexed  and  discouraged.  And 
now  I  am  determined  to  come  up  to  this  question  of 
religious  duty  as  to  a  new  question ;  to  view  it  as  I 
did  in  childhood,  before  it  had  become  involved  in  a 
maze  of  human  theories."  Having  placed  yourself  in 
this  attitude,  my  hearer,  let  me  try  to  bring  the  sub- 
ject before  you  in  the  simplest  form  possible. 

There  are  just  two  things  for  you  to  do  in  becoming 
a  Christian,  and  one  of  these  is  simply  preparatory  to 
the  other.  You  must  see  that  you  are  opposed  to 
God,  and  you  must  yield  yourself  up  to  God.  The 
former  of  these  steps  is  usually  called  conviction,  and 
the  latter  submission. 


STORY   OF  NAAMAN,    AND   ITS   LESSON.    347 

Let  us  see  if  you  liave  not  the  conviction.  This 
word  "conviction"  is  one  that  has  troubled  you  a  great 
deal.  It  is  a  technical  term,  and  there  are  many  such 
words  and  jDhrases  in  constant  use  among  Christians. 
You  hear  about  saving  faith,  about  coming  to  Christ, 
about  casting  yourself  on  the  Saviour,  and  about  sub- 
mitting to  God.  The  expressions  all  have  a  meaning, 
but  you  fail  to  perceive  it.  The  changes  have  been 
rung  on  them  so  long,  that  to  your  ear  the  sense  has 
dropped  out  of  them.  They  are  hollow  and  lifeless. 
The  person  who  uses  them  seems  to  mean  something 
by  them,  but  they  convey  no  idea  to  your  mind,  and 
hence  you  deem  them  unintelligible,  and  he  thinks  you 
obstinate.  Now  it  is  somewhat  so  with  the  word  "con- 
viction." It  contains  an  idea ;  it  is  used  to  designate 
that  preparatory  step  which  you  take  in  becoming  a 
Christian.  But  much  that  is  merely  adventitious  is 
associated  with  the  word  in  your  mind.  You  have 
heard  it  used  in  various  relations;  you  have  heard 
persons  speak  of  deep  convictions,  of  terrible,  soul- 
harrowing  convictions,  and  you  are  waiting  till  some- 
thing of  this  kind  shall  happen  in  your  experience.  I 
do  not  deny  that  there  often  are  such  experiences, 
where  the  heart  has  not  as  yet  submitted  to  Christ. 
But  they  are  not  common :  the  great  majority  of  be- 
lievers have  had  to  begin  the  Christian  life  without 
them  ;  they  come  at  an  advanced  stage  of  the  journey, 
much  more  naturally  than  at  the  beginning.  God 
does  smite  some  do\vn  with  these  convictions,  as  he 
did  Saul  of  Tarsus,  but  no  man  has  a  right  to  look  for 
them,  much  less  ought  any  to  delay  repentance  for 
want  of  them.  They  are  not  necessary  in  order  that 
you  may  perform  your  religious  duty  intelligently. 
The  conviction  which  you  have  already  is  deep  enough 


348  SERMONS. 

to  serve  as  a  basis  of  action,  of  immediate  action.  You 
know  that  the  great  work  of  your  life  is  not  yet  ac- 
complished. You  are  not  ready  to  die ;  you  are  not 
ready  to  meet  God  in  judgment.  And  why  should 
you  require  any  more  conviction  ?  God  will  not  force 
you  into  His  kingdom ;  you  must  go  in  yourself,  if  at 
all.  He  has  made  you  free.  You  see  that  you  have 
not  yet  done  the  work ;  God  shows  you  by  His  Spirit 
and  truth  that  you  have  not;  and  now,  if  you  wait 
till  He  shall  do  something  more  for  you  before  you 
consent  to  do  anything  for  yourself,  you  tempt  Him 
to  take  from  you  the  chance  of  salvation.  How  was 
it  with  Naaman  ?  Did  he  wait  for  some  terrible  devel- 
opment of  his  leprosy  before  applying  for  helj)  ?  Did 
he  say,  "  I  know  that  this  disease  is  upon  me,  but  it 
does  not  trouble  me  much  yet.  I  can  still  attend  to  my 
duties  and  enjoy  life  very  well ;  and  therefore  I  will 
not  try  to  rid  myself  of  it  till  it  fills  me  with  intoler- 
able pain  "  ?  He  was  too  wise  a  man  to  reason  thus. 
The  danger  was  apparent  to  him,  and  that  was  enough ; 
he  took  prompt  measures  to  escape  it,  not  waiting  for 
some  fearful  torment  to  urge  him  on.  How  is  it  with 
yourself,  when  you  find  a  troublesome  soreness  in 
the  lungs,  and  begin  to  fear  lest  the  fatal  disease  of 
our  coast  should  fasten  itself  upon  you  ?  You  know 
your  danger,  and  that  knowledge  is  sufficient  ground 
for  you  to  act  on.  Do  you  wait  for  the  disease  to 
become  very  painful?  Do  you  say,  *'I  shall  not  be 
convinced  of  my  danger  till  every  breath  becomes  a 
groan  and  every  motion  a  torture  "  ?  You  have  no 
difficulty  of  this  sort.  You  do  not  ask  at  what  steps  of 
the  disease  other  people  have  sought  relief,  or  whether 
your  symptoms  correspond  in  all  respects  to  theirs. 
It  is  your  danger ;  it  indicates  its  presence  in  its  own 


STORY  OF  N A  AM  AN,  AND  ITS  LESSON.    349 

way ;  you  know  that  it  is  there,  and  without  waiting 
for  any  more  conviction,  you  go  for  the  remedies  as 
promptly  as  you  can.  So  should  it  be  in  the  matter  of 
your  duty  to  God.  You  are  conscious  that  that  duty 
has  not  yet  been  performed.  This  is  a  sufficient  basis 
for  action.  Why  are  you  not  as  wise  in  spiritual 
things  as  in  temporal  things  ?  Is  a  leprosy  or  is  con- 
sumption more  to  be  dreaded  than  banishment  from 
God  ?  Will  you  act  for  this  life  as  soon  as  your  sus- 
picions are  awakened  ;  and  must  you  feel  the  terrors 
of  despair  before  you  will  consent  to  do  anything  for 
the  endless  life  ?  You  have  as  much  evidence  of  your 
sinfulness  as  you  need  to  have ;  and  now  if  you  wait 
for  more  conviction,  you '  grieve  the  Spirit,  you  tempt 
God  to  swear  in  His  wrath  that  you  shall  not  enter 
into  His  rest.  But  this  is  not  all.  The  danger  is,  that 
those  convictions,  instead  of  ever  becoming  greater, 
are  constantly  becoming  less.  Have  you  not  found  it 
so  already  ?  Does  truth  affect  you  as  much  as  it  once 
did?  Are  you  as  easily  impressed  by  the  solemn 
providences  of  God  as  formerly  ?  Have  not  the  obsta- 
cles in  the  way  of  repentance,  which  were  once  slight, 
become  broad  and  mountainous?  Sin  is  a  peculiar 
disease  in  this  respect.  It  is  stupefpng,  it  puts  one  to 
sleep.  The  more  you  have  of  it,  the  less  of  conviction 
may  there  be.  You  are  waiting  for  that  voice  which 
warns  you  to  repent,  to  come  nearer  and  ring  more 
loudly  in  your  ear.  But  it  is  growing  fainter,  it  is  de- 
parting, and  if  you  cannot  yield  to  it  now,  what  will 
you  do  when  it  has  died  away  in  the  distance  ?  A 
dim  light  is  shining  on  the  path  ;  you  could  enter  it 
and  trace  it  if  you  would.  But  you  say  that  you  must 
have  more  light ;  and  while  you  thus  sit  still,  making 
claims  on  the  mercy  of  God,  daring  to  demand  that 


350  SERMONS. 

He  should  give  you  more  liglit  before  you  use  what 
you  have,  the  duskiness  of  which  you  complain  is  fast 
deepening  into  a  rayless  midnight. 

We  conclude  therefore,  my  hearer,  that  in  your  case 
the  preparatory  work  is  accomplished.  You  have  all 
the  conviction  you  need;  as  much,  probably  more, 
than  you  will  have  at  any  future  time.  Nothing 
stands  between  you  and  the  great,  essential  thing 
which  you  are  to  do  in  becoming  a  Christian.  God 
requires  of  you  instant  submission.  I  use  this  word 
for  two  reasons.  It  expresses  the  whole  of  your  duty, 
and  it  is  a  word  which  often  puzzles  you.  Let  us  see 
if  we  cannot  understand  just  what  it  means  in  your 
case. 

Mark,  first,  that  it  is  submission  to  God.  You 
must  go  back  of  all  human  theories ;  back  of  what  I 
say,  and  of  what  any  other  man  says.  You  must  take 
the  work  into  your  own  hands,  and  arise  and  go  for- 
ward to  God  with  it.  It  is  at  the  foot  of  His  throne 
that  the  new  life  of  faith  begins.  To  bring  you  to 
this  point  is  the  object  of  all  gospel  sermons,  of  all  our 
exhortations,  of  every  prayer  that  we  put  uj)  on  your 
behalf.  These  means  of  grace  line  the  road  to  the 
mercy-seat  on  either  hand  ;  your  back  is  toward  that 
seat ;  and  it  is  their  office  to  turn  you  around,  away 
from  themselves  and  from  everything  else,  to  God. 
As  soon  as  your  attention  is  drawn  from  these  and 
fixed  solely  and  entirely  on  Him,  and  He  hears  you 
say,  "  Not  my  will  but  thine  be  done,"  He  will  meet 
you  and  fall  on  your  neck  and  own  you  as  His  child. 
But  you  say,  "  Shall  I  not  use  the  means  of  grace,  the 
Bible,  prayer,  and  religious  instruction,  and  find  my 
way  to  God  through  these  ?  "  Certainly  you  should 
use  them  ;  but  the  act  of  submission  should  come  first. 


STORY  OF  N A  AM  AN,  AND   ITS  LESSON.    351 

You  can  make  that  surrender  instantly.  You  can  do 
it  while  the  present  moment  is  passing.  You  know- 
that  you  can  say  honestly  and  with  all  your  soul, 
"  From  this  moment  onward  it  shall  be  the  great  pur- 
pose of  my  life  to  obey  the  will  of  God.  Here  am  I, 
Lord ;  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do  ?  "  But  you 
are  afraid,  if  you  do  make  this  entire  surrender,  that 
you  shall  not  carry  out  your  purpose.  You  shrink 
from  the  first  step,  lest  you  should  fail  in  some  of  the 
subsequent  steps.  But  do  you  make  the  matter  any 
better  by  hesitating  ?  Do  you  not  fail  of  them  as  it 
is  ?  Which  is  wisest,  —  to  lose  the  whole  certainly, 
or  to  make  sure  of  the  first  one,  and  thereby  get  an 
opportimity  to  take  the  others?  And  now  perhaps 
you  have  another  difficulty.  You  could  utter  this 
now :  you  could  say  from  the  bottom  of  your  heart, 
"  At  this  point  in  my  life  I  enter  God's  service  ;  " 
but  it  seems  to  you  much  like  taking  a  leap  in  the 
dark.  You  do  not  see  the  way  as  clearly  as  you  like ; 
you  want  to  know  first  what  it  is  that  God  would  have 
you  do.  But  this  is  wrong  ;  it  is  like  Naaman's  fault. 
God  says,  "  Make  that  vow  to  me."  But  you  say, 
"  No  ;  point  out  the  path  to  me,  and  then  I  will  tliink 
of  the  vow."  Are  you  afraid  to  trust  God  ?  Will 
He  tell  you  to  do  anything  that  you  are  not  able  to 
do  ?  Are  you  not  perfectly  safe  in  saying,  "  Lord,  I 
here  covenant  with  thee  to  do  just  what  thou  shalt 
require  of  me,  though  as  yet  thou  hast  not  sho^^i  me 
one  of  thy  commands"?  No  matter  how  much  in 
the  dark  you  are  ;  how  little  you  know  of  the  Divine 
will.  You  must  submit  first,  that  is,  place  yourself 
under  God's  direction,  utterly  at  His  disposal ;  and 
then  it  will  be  time  for  you  to  learn  His  wishes  and 
obey  them.     Do  you  see  anything  obscure  or  irrational 


352  SERMONS. 

in  this?  It  may  be  very  different  from  v/hat  you 
have  expected  ;  but  why  should  you  therefore  turn 
and  go  away  offended  ?  You  have  had  a  revelation  of 
God's  will  all  your  life.  No  matter  how  much  or  how 
little  you  know  of  the  contents  of  the  Bible.  Before 
you  open  it  again,  yield  yourself  up  to  it ;  have  a  sol- 
emn determination  to  live  as  it  shall  tell  you  to  live. 
You  are  a  child ;  and  your  Father,  speaking  in  that 
book,  calls  you  to  Him.  But  you  have  refused  to  go 
to  Him  tiU  He  should  state  what  He  wants  of  you. 
This  He  will  never  do.  You  may  read  the  Bible,  but 
you  will  not  understand  it  till  after  the  surrender  of 
yourself  to  it.  Do  this.  Be  not  afraid  to  trust  your- 
self in  God's  hands  ;  and  then  He  will  make  known 
His  wishes  ;  and  you  shall  find  that  His  command- 
ments are  all  just  and  for  your  highest  good.  This  is 
the  starting-point.  Here  you  must  begin.  You  may 
have  tried  to  set  out  from  some  other  point ;  and  may 
have  been  as  much  enraged  as  Naaman  was,  when  told 
to  make  an  instant  surrender  of  yourself  to  the  Divine 
control ;  but  there  is  no  other  way  under  heaven, 
given  among  men,  whereby  you  may  be  saved.  In 
all  your  darkness,  in  all  your  confusion  and  bewilder- 
ment, whether  you  have  much  or  only  a  little  convic- 
tion, dropping  your  preconceived  theories  and  notions, 
you  must  take  this  stand  of  absolute  submission  to  the 
will  of  God,  and  then  go  on  to  learn  what  that  will  is. 
Here  I  might  stop  ;  for  it  is  in  the  performing  of 
this  act,  in  this  placing  of  himself  entirely  at  God's 
direction,  that  the  sinner  passes  from  death  unto  life. 
But  let  us  follow  him  a  little  way  into  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.  You  have  taken  the  Bible  and  said  :  "This 
contains  the  will  of  God,  whom  I  am  to  obey  the  rest 
of  my  life.     Now  I  open  this  book  with  such  feelings 


STORY  OF  NAAMAN,   AND   ITS  LESSON.    353 

and  purposes  as  I  never  had  before.  What  it  tells 
me  to  do  I  will  perform,  and  what  it  tells  me  to  re- 
frain from  doing  I  will  avoid,  and  what  it  tells  me  to 
believe  I  will  believe  with  all  my  heart ;  and  if  ever 
there  are  two  courses  of  conduct  before  me,  and  I  am 
in  doubt  which  one  to  take,  this  book  shall  decide  the 
question  for  me.  I  may  have  been  wont  to  think  that 
certain  amusements  were  harmless ;  but  now  I  will 
bring  them  all  to  this  master,  and  if  I  find  that  it  con- 
demns them,  either  by  its  letter  or  by  its  spirit,  I  will 
drop  them  ;  if  it  tells  me  to  keep  away  from  certain 
places,  I  w^ill  keep  away  from  those  places ;  if  it  tells 
me  to  avoid  certain  companions,  I  will  abandon  their 
society.  As  soon  as  it  tells  me  to  have  a  place  for  se- 
cret prayer,  I  will  consecrate  such  a  place.  If  it  says, 
'  Go  into  the  social  meeting  and  strengthen  God's 
people  with  your  sympathy,'  I  will  obey  the  direction. 
If  it  bids  me  seek  out  impenitent  friends  and  urge 
them  to  do  as  I  am  doing,  I  will  hasten  to  those 
friends.  Should  I  discover  that  I  ought  to  confess 
Christ  before  men,  I  will  do  so  promptly  and  fear- 
lessly. Some  of  these  duties  may  be  hard  for  me  ; 
my  soul  may  recoil  from  them ;  they  may  cause  me  to 
quake  with  alarm,  and  to  feel  that  all  the  world  is 
frowning  on  me  :  but  they  shall  be  performed,  even  to 
the  cutting  off  of  a  right  hand,  or  to  the  plucking  out 
of  a  right  eye  ;  for  I  rely  on  God  to  help  me,  and  He 
has  said,  '  As  thy  day  is,  so  shall  thy  strength  be.' 
Whatever  dispositions  I  have,  which  God  here  pro- 
nounces wrong,  I  will  strive  to  subdue  ;  and  those  in- 
ward feelings  and  motives  which  this  volume  com- 
mends, I  will  cherish  and  cultivate  all  my  days." 
This,  my  hearer,  is  the  second  form  which  submission 
takes.      Having  placed   yourself   at  the  direction  of 


354  SERMONS. 

God,  you  do  not  stop.  You  begin  to  learn  what  His 
commandments  are,  and  as  fast  as  you  learn  them  you 
obey  them.  You  did  not  know  those  commandments 
before  you  gave  up  your  will  to  His,  though  you  had 
perhaps  read  and  studied  His  word  for  years.  You 
did  not  have  the  Holy  Spirit  then,  and  hence  the 
Bible  was  a  dead  letter  to  you.  God  never  gives 
Him  to  any  but  His  children,  and  you  are  not  God's 
child  till  you  make  that  first  great  surrender  ;  and 
even  then  you  will  not  have  Him  except  as  you  ask 
for  Him.  In  answer  to  your  earnest  petitions  only 
will  He  come  and  make  the  Scriptures  plain,  and 
take  of  the  things  of  Christ  and  show  them  unto  you, 
and  lead  you  into  all  truth,  and  conduct  you  onward 
in  the  way  of  your  duties.  Have  you  begun  this 
work,  my  hearer  ?  Then  you  have  reached  the  point 
where  Naaman  stood  after  his  servants  had  persuaded 
him  to  obey  the  prophet.  Though  you  have  turned 
from  these  duties  of  the  Christian  life  hitherto,  and 
have  gone  away  in  a  rage  as  often  as  you  were  told  to 
set  about  them,  your  anger  has  at  length  subsided. 
You  have  given  up  your  will  to  God's.  You  are  in 
the  way  to  the  river.  Your  heart  says,  "  Not  what  I 
will,  but  what  thou  wilt.  Show  me  thy  way,  O  Lord, 
teach  me  thy  paths.  Give  me  thy  spirit,  that  I  may 
understand  what  I  read ;  and  that  which  I  read  I  will 
obey,  though  it  crush  my  proud  nature  to  the  dust." 

There  is  a  third  form  of  submission  also,  which  you 
need  to  consider  briefly.  It  has  reference  to  that  joy 
and  peace  which  the  new  convert  anticijDates.  I  fear 
that  too  much  is  made  of  these.  They  are  no  part  of 
your  duty,  but  are  blessings  which  God  holds  in  His 
hand.  He  has  promised  them  to  you  if  you  obey 
Him  ;  but  He  is  a  sovereign.     He  will  withhold  them 


STORY  OF  N A  AM  AN,   AND   ITS  LESSON.    355 

for  a  time  if  He  pleases,  and  give  tliem  when  He 
pleases.  He  may  shed  them  upon  you  suddenly  and 
ill  large  measure,  or  they  may  come  so  gi-adually  as 
not  to  be  perceived  for  a  long  time.  If  you  hear  a 
new  convert  express  great  delight,  remember  that 
your  experience  is  not  to  be  tested  by  his.  They  that 
compare  themselves  among  themselves  are  not  wise. 
Let  your  whole  soul  be  consecrated  upon  that  which 
God  gives  you  to  do,  leaving  peace  or  trouble,  joy  or 
sadness,  to  come  how  and  when  and  in  such  measure 
as  God  shall  choose.  Having  done  that  which  is  de- 
clared to  be  the  condition  of  forgiveness,  believe  that 
God  is  as  good  as  His  promise,  that  you  are  forgiven, 
that  your  pardon  is  sealed  on  high,  and  that  you  shall 
have  the  witness  of  it  in  God's  own  time  and  way. 
The  best  evidence  you  can  have  that  you  have  passed 
from  death  unto  life  is  the  fact  that  you  are  striving  to 
keep  the  commandments  of  God. 

And  throughout  this  life-long  struggle  you  will  have 
one  great  relief.  Christ,  the  ransom  for  all  your  sins, 
your  substitute  in  the  court  of  heaven,  will  never  fail 
you.  When  you  find  yourself  yielding  to  temptation  ; 
when  you  detect  sinful  motives  rising  within  you  ; 
when  you  feel  almost  discouraged,  and  fear  that  you 
shall  never  be  able  to  rise  above  your  iniquities,  you 
can  say,  "  '  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth.'  Jus- 
tice does  not  look  on  me,  but  on  Him.  These  failures 
shall  not  cause  me  to  despair  ;  for  His  blood  cleanseth 
from  all  sin.  I  will  never  lose  heart ;  I  wall  struggle 
onward  ;  I  have  made  some  progress  ;  I  deplore  my 
sins  ;  the  duties  which  I  have  failed  in  I  will  yet 
strive  to  perform.  For  there  He  stands ;  He  loves 
me.  He  helps  me,  He  redeems  me  out  of  my  iniqui- 
ties ;  and  when  I  awake  with  His  likeness  I  shall  be 
satisfied." 


COMPLETED  LIVES. 

And  so  we  went  toward  Rome.  — Acts  xxviii.  14. 

Men  often  long  and  pray  for  certain  objects,  and 
hope  or  even  expect  that  they  shall  one  day  possess 
them,  while  they  have  no  conception  of  the  hardship 
and  suffering  which  the  attainment  of  them  involves. 
This  is  one  secret  of  the  many  disappointed  and  un- 
happy lives  which  we  find.  It  is  one  thing  to  dream, 
and  quite  another  thing  to  make  good  your  dream. 
We  imagine  for  ourselves  victories  in  the  future,  with 
no  thought  of  the  hard  fighting  by  which  alone  we  can 
win  them  ;  we  fancy  ourselves  learned,  or  powerful,  or 
renowned,  but  our  hearts  fail  us  in  the  very  first  steps 
of  the  journey  by  which  alone  the  coveted  height  may 
be  reached.  If  to  wish  and  long  and  pray  for  good 
things  were  all  the  same  as  to  gain  them,  there  would 
be  no  beggars  in  the  world  but  only  princes,  no  wicked 
people  but  only  righteous  and  pure,  none  unhappy 
but  all  satisfied  and  blessed.  God  hears  our  prayers, 
but  that  is  no  true  prayer  which  does  not  take  into 
account  the  means  by  which  it  is  to  be  answered. 
You  cannot  truly  say  that  you  pray  for  a  harvest  if  you 
do  not  plough  the  land,  and  sow  your  seed  and  water 
it.  So  all  human  wishes  are  utterly  vain  if  they  end 
merely  with  the  wishing.  Two  of  Christ's  disciples 
were  once  dreaming  of  sitting,  one  on  His  right  hand 
and  the  other  on  the  left,  in  His  kingdom.  But  He 
instantly  withdrew  their  minds   from  the   glittering 


COMPLETED  LIVES.  357 

prize  to  the  hard  process  by  which  it  was  to  be  gained. 
"  Can  ye  drink  of  my  cup,  can  ye  be  baptized  with 
my  baptism  ?  "  said  He.  You  dream  of  glory  in  my 
kingdom,  that  is,  but  are  you  able  to  go  through  the 
terrible  discipline  by  which  alone  that  glory  can  be 
yours?  The  stern  truth  which  Christ  here  uttered 
enters  into  all  life,  and  the  sooner  we  accept  it,  and 
begin  to  act  upon  it  in  all  our  dreams  and  hopes  of 
future  success,  the  better  for  us.  Alas  for  us  if  we 
think  that  the  high  objects  to  which  we  aspire  can  be 
gained  in  any  other  way !  You  would  like  to  succeed 
as  a  mechanic,  an  inventor,  a  teacher,  a  merchant,  a 
law^^er,  a  miner,  a  doctor,  an  agriculturist ;  but  do  you 
know  what  that  wish  of  yours  means  ?  Is  the  coveted 
thing  coming  to  you  of  itseK  at  your  idle  call  ?  How 
bitter  the  disappointment  in  store  for  you,  if  you 
think  so !  Ask  the  men  who  are  just  now  doing 
such  wonders  with  the  element  of  electricity  whether 
they  have  toiled  or  not.  Toiled  I  They  have  grudged 
the  hours  which  they  gave  to  sleep,  and  their  minds 
have  been  so  intent  on  the  one  object  they  were  pur- 
suino^  that  other  thino-s  lono:  aoro  ceased  to  interest 
them.  Read  a  little  book  lately  published,  called 
"  The  Blessed  Bees,"  if  you  would  know  what  inten- 
sity of  thought  and  prolonged  devotion  are  necessary 
to  the  highest  success,  even  in  the  matter  of  supply- 
ing the  market  with  honey.  It  is  a  book  which  reads 
a  most  useful  lesson  to  every  young  person  who  would 
succeed  in  any  undertaking.  You  envy  the  rich  man 
his  mansions  and  his  warehouses,  or  ships  or  facto- 
ries, or  banking-houses.  But  while  you  are  doing 
that,  and  before  you  let  another  murmur  escape  you, 
ask  yourself  if  you  are  able  to  bear  the  self-denial, 
the  long  years  of  unremitting  labor  and  of  tedious 


358  SERMONS. 

study  and  thought,  by  which  he  has  attained  his  pres- 
ent position  ?  You  think  it  a  fine  thing  to  be  a  great 
statesman,  a  profound  scholar,  an  astute  and  far-seeing 
diplomatist,  a  leader  of  armies,  a  ruler  of  kingdoms. 
But  what  do' you  think  of  the  long  and  severe  strug- 
gle of  preparation  which  must  go  before  everything 
of  that  sort  ?  Is  this  painful  discipline  a  fine  thing 
to  you  ?  Certainly  not.  But  until  you  are  willing  to 
accept  it,  and  bravely  enter  into  it  with  an  enthusiasm 
which  at  length  makes  you  love  it,  you  may  as  well 
drop  any  hope  of  rising  above  the  common  level. 
The  successful  artist  will  tell  you  this  while  you  are 
wishing  that  you  might  be  a  painter  or  sculjDtor.  The 
renowned  poet  or  musician  will  repeat  the  admonition. 
Wherever  you  go  or  look,  all  about  you  from  the 
higher  levels  of  human  life,  you  will  hear  the  unan- 
imous verdict,  that  if  you  would  achieve  success,  you 
must  accept  its  conditions.  You  are  not  born  success- 
ful, nor  do  you  have  success  thrust  upon  you  ;  the  way 
only  is  open,  and  whatever  your  dream  or  hope  may 
be,  it  will  never  be  made  good  if  you  fear  the  dust 
and  flints  and  the  rugged  steeps  before  you. 

Now  we  know,  dear  friends,  that  this  teaching  is 
true  enough  in  all  our  earthly  concerns.  It  does  us 
no  good  to  see  the  upward  way  and  to  long  to  be  in  it, 
while  we  indolently  keep  on  in  the  downward  course. 
And  what  is  true  of  all  earthly  life  is  also  true  of  the 
new  life  in  Christ  Jesus,  as  He  showed  James  and 
John  in  the  words  I  have  quoted.  We  must  drink 
the  cup  if  we  would  gain  the  kingdom.  We  must  lose 
our  lives  if  we  would  save  them.  We  must  be  buried 
with  Christ  if  we  would  have  part  in  His  resurrection. 
We  must  be  crucified  with  Him  if  we  would  also  reign 
with  Him.     Nor  let  us  think  that  what  we  must  under- 


COMPLETED   LIVES.  359 

go  for  His  sake  is  only  some  sharp  and  sudden  stroke. 
There  is  life-long  struggle,  ceaseless  vigilance  and 
labor  before  us,  if  we  would  fulfill  any  hopes  we  may 
have  of  honoring  Him  and  His  kingdom.  In  vain  do 
we  approve  the  law  as  holy  and  just  and  good,  while 
we  yield  to  the  motions  of  that  carnal  mind  in  us 
which  would  bring  us  into  captivity  to  the  law  of  sin 
and  death.  In  our  very  desire  to  be  holy  as  God  is, 
there  is  a  willingness,  so  long  as  the  desire  is  honest 
and  sincere,  to  go  through  any  hardship  and  toil  which 
the  satisfying  of  that  desire  may  involve.  This  is  the 
condition  of  all  inward  growth  in  Christian  character, 
and  of  all  outward  achievement  for  Christ.  If  we 
aspire  to  nothing,  then  it  is  perfectly  natural  that  we 
should  sit  still  and  do  nothing.  But  if  we  have  aspira- 
tions, even  these  will  do  us  no  good,  they  will  only  re- 
turn upon  us  in  disappointment  and  remorse,  if  we 
shrink  from  the  toils  and  sacrifices  which  they  involve. 
And  the  magnitude  of  the  work  we  would  do  for 
Christ  measures  the  amount  of  hardship  and  labor  we 
should  be  willing  to  go  through.  If  we  wish  to  reap 
but  sparingly,  we  need  sow  only  sparingly ;  but  if  we 
would  reap  bountifully,  we  must  also  sow  bountifully. 
The  effort  which  you  put  forth  in  Christ's  name,  what 
you  do  and  give  and  endure,  must  be  proportioned  to 
the  greatness  or  the  height  of  the  object  you  would 
gain.  If  you  wish  to  be  a  bright  example  of  Chris- 
tian discipleship,  as  we  all  do  at  one  time  or  another, 
then  you  must  shrink  from  nothing  which  lies  in  the 
way  to  your  object.  You  must  not  be  discouraged 
by  the  greatness  of  the  way;  must  not  faint  when 
the  journey  seems  to  you  very  steep  and  very  long. 
Remember  it  is  in  vain  that  you  hope  and  aspire,  in 
vain  that  you  wish  or  pray  that  you  may  do  some 


360  SERMONS. 

great  thing  for  Christ,  while  you  are  unwilling  to  sub- 
mit to  the  conditions  by  which  alone  your  hope  may 
be  fulfilled,  your  aspiration  met,  your  wish  gratified, 
your  prayer  answered.  Your  dream  of  eminent  ser- 
vice for  Christ  will  come  down  in  reproaches  on  your 
head,  and  fill  you  with  wretchedness  and  despair,  if 
the  price  which  you  must  pay  for  its  fulfillment  seems 
to  you  greater  than  you  can  afford.  We  hear  of  days 
which  tried  men's  souls.  My  dear  friend,  the  day 
which  tries  your  soul  is  that  in  which  you  see  a  chance 
to  do  some  noble  thing  for  Christ,  and  the  question  is, 
Will  you  accept  the  conditions  of  that  blessed  work ; 
will  you  dare  to  take  the  course  in  life  which  leads  to 
it,  to  give  up  the  ambitions  and  submit  to  the  losses 
which  lie  in  the  way  to  it ;  or  will  you  turn  from  the 
heavenly  vision  down  into  the  tempting  path  where 
Christ  never  is,  and  in  which  you  can  do  no  work  for 
Him? 

Our  text,  describing  the  final  stages  of  the  last 
journey  of  St.  Paul,  may  serve  to  remind  us  how  he 
met  this  question,  the  trying  question  of  every  life. 
"  And  so  we  went  toward  Eome,"  says  his  friend  and 
attendant  Luke,  though  perhaps  Luke  did  not  realize 
that  those  were  hours  of  thanksgiving  to  Paul.  He 
was  about  to  see  the  highest  aspiration  of  his  life 
fulfilled.  Very  soon  after  he  became  an  apostle,  the 
city  of  Eome  began  to  fix  his  attention.  He  fre- 
quently spoke  of  it,  and  expressed  the  wish  and  pur- 
pose to  visit  it.  His  missionary  travels  were  con- 
stantly bringing  him  nearer  and  nearer  to  it.  He 
was  glad  to  fall  in  with  persons  who  came  from  Rome 
and  make  them  his  friends ;  and  he  would  have  gone 
to  the  imperial  city  much  sooner  than  he  did,  had 
not  Satan  hindered  him.     In  the  whole  course  of  St. 


COMPLETED  LIVES.  861 

Paul,  there  is  a  lesson  to  those  of  this  clay  who  would 
give  the  gospel  to  the  world.  Though  he  despised  no 
opportunity  however  small,  he  sought  the  chief  cen- 
tres of  intellectual,  social,  and  commercial  life  in  which 
to  i)lant  the  seed  of  the  kingdom.  In  Syria  he  la- 
bored especially  at  Antioch,  in  Cyprus  at  Paphos,  in 
Asia  Minor  at  Ephesus,  in  Macedonia  at  Philippi,  in 
Greece  at  Coi-inth.  And  when  he  failed  to  get  a  hear- 
ing at  any  of  these  places,  or  was  mocked  and  driven 
away,  as  often  happened,  he  turned  only  the  more 
eagerly  toward  Rome.  All  the  other  cities  which  he 
visited,  though  capitals  of  provinces,  were  but  provin- 
cial ;  Rome  overshadowed  them.  Rome  was  therefore 
the  true  centre  from  which  to  work  ;  if  she  could  be 
converted  to  Christ,  the  whole  world  would  be  speed- 
ily Cln-istianized.  To  preach  in  Rome,  to  build  up  a 
strong  church  there,  and  there  to  suffer  and  die,  so 
that  his  name  and  work  should  become  identified  w^ith 
the  Roman  name,  was  in  his  day  a  great  matter.  He 
saw  this,  as  we  in  our  day  see  how  great  a  thing  it  is 
to  have  the  leading  nations  of  the  earth  believers  in 
the  religion  of  Christ.  We  must  not  neglect  these 
great  centres,  which  are  all  the  time  sending  currents 
of  influence  throughout  the  world,  but  must  give  them 
our  chief  concern,  as  Paul  gave  his  to  Rome,  if  we 
would  see  the  world  evangelized.  We  may  notice  a 
threefold  development  of  the  religious  life  of  St. 
Paul.  First,  there  was  his  personal  consecration  to 
Christ,  which  cost  him  a  sore  struggle.  This  involved 
the  putting  away  of  his  deep  prejudices  and  cherished 
ambitions.  A  series  of  long  and  fierce  encounters 
with  himself  and  the  world  lay  between  him  and  the 
object  on  which  his  heart  was  set.  If  he  had  been 
iinwiHing  to  fight  these  battles  and  to  make  the  sacri- 


362  SERMONS. 

fices  required  of  him,  his  fond  desire  would  have  done 
no  good.  To  gain  his  end  he  was  willing  to  make 
himself  a  pupil  of  one  of  the  despised  sect  whom  he 
had  been  persecuting.  He  had  the  courage  to  drop 
his  ambitious  plans,  and  devote  three  years  to  the 
study  of  this  whole  subject.  You  may  long  to  be  a 
Christian,  dear  friend,  but  you  will  never  be  one  till 
3^ou  can  accept  the  conditions  which  the  step  involves. 
St.  Paul  had  to  do  this,  and  so  must  every  other  one 
who  makes  Christ  his  Master.  You  cannot  serve  two 
masters.  You  cannot  serve  God  and  Mammon.  It  is 
a  great  and  blessed  thing  which  you  yearn  for,  when 
you  yearn  to  know  that  Christ  is  your  Lord  and  God, 
to  know  that  He  is  leading  you,  that  you  are  hearing 
His  voice  all  the  time  and  obeying  it,  that  His  wisdom 
is  ordering  and  controlling  your  daily  life.  But  to 
enter  into  this  experience  requires  the  laying  down 
of  something  on  your  part ;  not  so  much,  perhaps,  as 
St.  Paul  laid  down,  yet  something.  And  here  is  the 
question  which  tries  your  soul :  Can  you  cast  behind 
you  whatever  stands  in  the  way  of  that  Christian  ser- 
vice which  you  would  begin  ? 

A  second  outgrowth  of  the  religious  life  of  St.  Paul 
was  his  consecration  to  the  preaching  of  the  gospel 
among  the  Gentiles.  His  first  consecration  was  the 
personal  giving  of  himself  to  Christ  to  do  whatever 
Christ  should  have  for  him  to  do.  But  here  is  a  con- 
secration to  a  specific  work  in  life.  Here  Paul  finds 
his  mission  in  the  world  and  gives  himself  away  to  it. 
As  the  springs  and  streamlets  on  the  mountain  sides 
or  among  the  hills  gradually  gather  themselves  into 
one  channel  till  they  make  the  deep  and  strong  river 
sweeping  on  to  the  sea,  so  his  first  religious  im- 
pulses, and  hopes  and  longings,  grew  together  into  this 


COMPLETED  LIVES.  363 

one  all-engrossing  purpose.  The  providence  of  God 
showed  him  that  it  was  to  be  his  work  in  life  to  give 
the  gospel  to  the  Gentiles.  His  whole  soul  rose  within 
him  at  this  prospect ;  he  accepted  the  office,  whatever 
it  might  cost  him,  and  thereafter  he  ever  magnified 
his  office.  And  we  know  a  little  of  what  it  cost  Paul 
to  be  the  apostle  of  the  Gentiles.  As  in  even  becom- 
ing a  Christian  he  left  his  own  nation,  made  them  his 
enemies,  gave  up  earthly  hopes,  so  in  accepting  this 
apostleship  he  still  further  shut  himself  out  from  his 
Judaizing  brethren,  and  exposed  himself  to  unknown 
perils  among  strangers  and  idolaters.  Whether  he 
had  counted  the  cost  or  not,  yet  nothing  ever  moved 
him  to  give  up  his  mission.  He  was  man  enough  to 
know  that  so  great  a  work  could  not  be  done  without 
hardship  and  suffering,  and  he  was  willing  to  do  and 
endure  whatever  might  be  in  store  for  him  in  it.  His 
difficulties  with  Peter,  and  with  Mark  and  Barnabas, 
with  nearly  all  the  leaders  in  the  Judaean  church,  did 
not  turn  him  back.  If  he  had  faltered  at  all  because 
some  of  his  brethren  could  not  see  as  he  saw,  or  be- 
cause of  the  innumerable  trials  which  came  upon  him, 
it  would  have  been  in  vain  that  he  cherished  his  higli 
hope  concerning  the  Gentiles :  he  could  not  have  said 
at  the  end  of  his  ministry,  "I  have  fought  a  good 
fight,  I  have  finished  my  course,  I  have  kept  the 
faith  ;  henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of 
righteousness,  which  the  Lord,  the  righteous  Judge, 
shall  give  me  at  that  day." 

But  besides  these  two  consecrations  under  Christ, 
that  for  a  general  obedience  and  that  for  a  specific 
mission,  St.  Paul  had  an  aspiration  or  yearning  some- 
how to  identify  himself  and  his  work  with  the  great 
city  of  Rome.     He  wished  to  plant  the  gospel  in  the 


364  SERMONS. 

very  lieart  of  the  known  world,  from  whence  its  power 
would  be  felt  to  the  remotest  bounds.  If  this  had 
been  mere  idle  dreaming,  or  speculation,  or  sentiment 
with  him,  he  would  have  never  got  to  Rome  ;  for  the 
trials  which  he  went  through  in  reaching  the  city 
of  the  Caesars  were  of  the  severest  kind.  Of  course, 
if  he  had  chosen  to  go  as  a.  common  traveller  or 
sojourner,  he  would  have  had  no  trouble.  But  he 
would  go  only  as  the  ambassador  of  Christ,  the  stand- 
ard of  the  cross  lifted  up  in  his  hands,  to  plant  in  the 
imperial  capital  that  gospel  of  the  Kingdom  which 
was  hated  and  feared.  It  was  no  holiday  work  to 
which  the  apostle  aspired.  His  aim  was  a  very  high 
one.  Think  a  moment ;  nay,  we  cannot  now  under- 
stand what  was  then  involved  in  bearding  the  mighty 
world-power  which  the  gospel  came  to  conquer  in  its 
most  central  and  proudest  stronghold.  The  man  who 
would  do  that  must  have  no  earthly  treasure  which 
he  could  not  willingly  sacrifice,  —  no  country,  no 
home,  no  kindred  or  friends.  Health,  safety,  comfort, 
and  ease  must  all  go.  He  must  not  count  his  life 
dear  to  him.  Neither  the  perils  of  the  sea  nor  of  the 
land  must  have  any  terrors  for  him.  And  for  all 
this,  lying  in  the  way  to  his  supreme  desire,  St.  Paul 
was  ready.  He  feared  it  not,  but  bravely  went 
through  it  from  the  bitter  beginning  to  the  bitter  end. 
First  his  religious  life  had  rooted  and  grounded  itself 
in  Christ,  and  then  it  had  shot  up  into  the  noble  stem 
and  branches  of  his  mission  to  the  Gentiles ;  and  now 
it  did  not  falter,  but  showed  its  heavenly  origin  and 
spirit,  when  the  time  had  come  for  it  to  put  forth  the 
consummate  flower.  Before  setting  out  on  his  last 
journey  to  Jerusalem,  the  apostle  distinctly  announced 
his  hope  and  purpose.     Thus  far,  his  desire  to  see 


COMPLETED  LIVES.  365 

Rome  had  been  thwarted,  but  now  the  yearning  had 
grown  so  strong  in  him  that  it  would  not  be  thwarted 
any  longer.  Every  other  hope  must  bend  to  the  ful- 
fillment of  this.  His  determination,  and  the  dangers 
which  it  was  known  to  involve,  gave  its  deep  pathos  to 
the  parting  with  the  elders  at  Miletus.  All  along  on 
his  way  eastward  he  found  his  brethren  full  of  appre- 
hension. They  felt  that  evil  of  a  most  serious  nature 
was  somewhere  to  befall  him,  and  they  naturally  asso- 
ciated it  all  with  Jerusalem  and  the  hostility  of  the 
Jews.  Hence  their  efforts,  wherever  he  stopped  on 
the  way,  to  dissuade  him  from  going  forward.  But 
he  told  them  that  he  went  bound  in  the  Spirit,  know- 
in  o-  what  thino^s  should  befall  him.  And  when  some 
besought  him  with  tears  not  to  go  on,  he  said,  "  What 
mean  ye  to  weep  and  to  break  my  heart  ?  for  I  am 
ready  not  only  to  be  bound,  but  also  to  die  at  Jerusa- 
lem for  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus."  Yet  he  knew 
he  was  not  to  die  there.  A  greater  testimony  than 
that  for  his  divine  Master  awaited  him.  He  had  an 
inward  assurance  that  somehow  he  should  see  Rome, 
and  he  let  the  Lord,  who  had  whispered  this  glad  se- 
cret in  his  heart,  lead  him.  He  let  himself  be  arrested 
by  the  Jews  and  then  rescued  by  the  Roman  garrison, 
and  then  carried  to  Caesarea,  and  then  brought  before 
Festus  ;  and  then  he  let  himself  be  sent  a  prisoner 
to  Rome,  though  he  might  have  been  set  at  liberty  if 
he  had  not  appealed  to  Csesar.  Ah,  dear  friends,  St. 
Paul  knew  what  he  wanted.  He  took  advantage  of 
a  law  of  the  empire  by  which  every  accused  citizen 
might  claim  to  be  tried  in  the  presence  of  the  em- 
peror. And  so,  though  chained  and  guarded,  he  got 
to  Rome.  He  had  succeeded,  he  had  triumphed,  he 
had  reached  the  highest  prize  in  life  to  which  he  had 


366  SERMONS. 

aspired  ;  liacl  reached  it  by  longing  for  it,  by  thinking 
about  it,  by  laying  his  plans  to  reach  it,  by  dreading 
no  trial  which  the  fulfillment  of  his  hope  involved,  by 
watching  the  providence  of  God  and  letting  that  lead 
him  on  toward  his  object.  We  have  but  a  brief  refer- 
ence to  the  closing  years  of  his  life  in  Rome.  Yet 
I  think  we  can  safely  say  that  he  here  did  the  most 
important  work  of  his  whole  career,  thus  justifying 
all  his  earnest  desires.  From  this  point  his  inspired 
messages  went  out  to  all  the  churches,  and  he  be- 
gan a  work  which  did  not  stop  till  the  whole  Roman 
Empire  had  bowed  to  the  name  of  Christ.  There  is 
probably  no  other  spot  on  the  face  of  the  whole  earth 
where  the  Christian  traveler  feels  the  spell  of  St. 
Paul's  name  and  work  so  much  as  in  that  room  in 
Clement's  house  in  which  he  lived  and  wrought. 

Thus  gloriously  did  the  life  of  St.  Paul  make  good 
all  its  promise,  dear  friends,  by  his  acceptance  of  the 
conditions  which  God  had  appointed.  Thus  only  can 
you  or  I  do  anything  for  Christ,  or  our  lives  bloom 
out  or  amount  to  anything  among  men.  In  vain  do 
we  gaze  on  the  House  Beautiful  at  the  top  of  the  hill 
if  we  forget  that  it  is  the  Hill  Difficulty,  and  that  we 
must  climb  it  for  ourselves.  God  will  go  with  us  up 
it,  but  what  of  that  if  we  refuse  to  go?  You  may 
have  in  your  heart  some  such  as23iration,  dream,  or 
hope  as  that  which  carried  St.  Paul  at  last  to  Rome. 
If  you  have,  whatever  your  vision  of  service  for  Christ 
may  be,  cherish  it,  be  obedient  unto  it.  Do  not  merely 
amuse  yourself  with  it  till  it  degenerates  into  weak 
sentiment,  but  look  at  it  sharply  till  it  defines  itself  in 
your  mind,  till  you  know  what  it  means  for  you,  and 
how  you  are  to  make  it  good.  It  is  your  calling  of 
God,  perhaps  your  high  calling  in  Christ  Jesus,  and 


COMPLETED  LIVES.  S67 

woe  nnto  you  if  you  refuse  Him  who  speaks  from 
heaven.  Or  3^ou  may  have  no  divine  dream  of  this 
sort ;  you  may  not  even  perceive  any  special  mission 
for  you  among-  men.  But  though  your  religious  life 
lack  both  the  blossom  and  the  stem,  yet  the  root  of 
the  whole  matter  may  be  in  you ;  and  this  is  after  all 
the  great  thing  for  us,  as  it  was  for  St.  Paul.  He 
first  yielded  himself  to  the  obedience  of  Christ,  and 
in  the  way  of  this  obedience  he  found  his  mission  and 
its  glorious  ending.  In  proportion  as  the  service  of 
his  life  grew  nobler,  his  sacrifices  and  toils  were  more 
trying.  But  it  tried  him  when  he  first  bowed  to  the 
name  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth ;  nor  was  he  without  trial, 
he  had  much  of  it,  before  the  more  special  purposes 
of  his  life  were  formed.  Very  likely  there  is  no  mis- 
sion, no  bright  victory  such  as  will  fix  the  gaze  of  men, 
in  store  for  us.  There  may  be.  We  know  not.  Such 
things  are  not  to  be  desired  unless  God  has  appointed 
them.  The  most  commonplace  and  uneventful  life  is 
the  best  if  He  sends  it.  That  it  is  what  He  ajDpoints 
is  the  great  thing.  He  knows,  and  He  knows  what  is 
best.  A  simple  life  of  obedience  to  Christ,  with  no 
sweep  or  splendor  to  it,  but  plain  and  lowly  and  un- 
admired  of  men  from  first  to  last,  is  the  most  blessed 
and  precious  for  us  when  we  have  learned  to  accept  it 
as  what  God  gives.  It  is  the  multitude  of  such  lives, 
blooming  and  ripening  throughout  the  world,  which 
are  to  finish  up  the  work  of  such  exceptional  lives  as 
St.  Paul's.  They  are  to  make  the  businesses  of  the 
woild  honest,  the  governments  of  the  world  just,  the 
social  and  domestic  intercourse  of  the  world  sweet 
and  pure.  Let  us  ever  be  found  doing  this,  dear 
friends,  and  then,  if  Christ  means  us  to  undertake  any 
special  mission  for  Him,  He  will  show  it  to  us ;  if  a 


368  SERMONS. 

bright  crown  is  to  be  put  on  our  earthly  service,  His 
providence,  carefully  watched  and  followed,  will  bring 
us  to  it ;  and  whatever  we  may  be  or  fail  to  be  in  the 
sight  of  men,  our  patient  continuance  in  well-doing  is 
carrying  us  upward  along  the  path  by  which  the  most 
heroic  and  royal  lives  must  ascend ;  and  over  us,  as 
over  them,  are  the  same  Divine  hands  stretched  out, 
and  the  same  words  of  blessing  spoken,  "  Ye  are  the 
salt  of  the  earth,  ye  are  the  light  of  the  world." 


THE   PRIVILEGE   OF   SUFFERING. 

Beloved,  think  it  not  strange  concerning  the  fierj^  trial  which  is  to 
try  you,  as  though  some  strange  thing  happened  unto  you  ;  but  rejoice, 
inasmuch  as  ye  are  partakers  of  Christ's  sufferings;  that  when  His 
glory  shall  be  revealed,  ye  may  be  glad  also  with  exceeding  joy.  — 
1  Pet.  iv.  12,  13. 

No  wonder,  clear  friends,  that  the  Bible  is  the  Book 
of  books ;  that  those  who  have  really  found  out  and 
felt  its  meaning,  only  cling  to  it  with  a  more  deter- 
mined love  the  more  it  is  spoken  against,  knowing 
in  their  hearts  that  its  words  are  the  words  of  their 
all-knowing  and  sympathizing  Father.  Think  or  say 
what  we  will  to  the  contrary  concerning  human  life, 
its  chief  feature  is  that  it  is  a  season  of  suffering  and 
sorrow,  and  this  feature  of  our  lives  the  Bible  every- 
where reflects,  as  the  lakes  in  the  mountains  reflect  the 
forms  of  the  sombre  overhanging  cliffs.  That  blessed 
divine  Book  would  not  be  the  long  record  of  trials 
and  blood  and  tears  which  it  is,  were  not  such  indeed 
the  actual  history  of  the  human  race.  Make  the  most 
we  can  of  the  bright  and  joyous  hours  which  come  in 
our  eartlily  lot,  they  are  after  all  but  whirling  eddies 
on  the  dark  stream ;  the  only  true  joy  is  that  which 
springs  from  our  faith  in  a  nobler  and  better  life  be- 
yond the  present.  "  These  sayings  are  faithful  and 
true,"  you  feel  in  your  heart,  as  you  read  of  the  sin 
of  Adam  and  Eve,  of  their  expulsion  from  the  garden 
to  toil  among  briers  and  thorns  ;  "  this  is  all  true  to 
my  experience,  to  every  man's  experience,"  as  you 


370  SERMONS. 

read  of  those  before  the  flood,  whose  hearts  departed 
from  God,  as  you  see  how  the  great  patriarchs  strug- 
gled and  sinned  and  groaned.  "  It  is  true,  true  to  all 
we  have  seen  or  read  of  history ; "  the  long  discipline, 
terrible  overthrows,  and  final  scattering  of  Israel ;  the 
hard  lives  and  bitter  deaths  of  the  apostles ;  the  per- 
secutions which  chased  the  early  church  from  city  to 
city.  We  look  upon  the  cross  of  Jesus  Christ  lifted 
up  before  us,  that  most  painful  of  all  sights  the  earth 
has  witnessed,  in  which  the  meaning  of  the  whole 
Bible  is  concentrated,  and  we  say  that  nothing  else  so 
profoundly  as  that  reflects  back  to  itself  human  life, 
whether  in  the  race  or  the  individual.  And  still  there 
is  nothing  weak,  nothing  cowardly  or  merely  senti- 
mental, in  aU  the  Book.  It  only  dares  to  tell  us  the 
truth,  telling  it  as  tenderly  as  bravely,  with  the  pur- 
pose of  making  us  brave  to  do  and  suffer  in  hope  of 
the  glory  to  be  revealed. 

This  is  the  great  spirit  which  comes  out  in  our  text. 
Peter  had  suffered,  and  God  had  taught  him  to  rejoice 
in  his  sufferings,  and  this  divine  lesson  he  is  trjnng 
to  make  over  to  his  brethren  who  are  tasting  the  bit- 
terness of  the  life  which  now  is.  "  Rejoice,  inasmuch 
as  ye  are  partakers  of  the  sufferings  of  Christ,"  he 
writes,  echoing  the  high  voice  of  all  Scripture,  the 
great  and  heroic  words  of  the  suffering  Saviour  Him- 
self. Pain  and  grief,  the  common  lot,  the  lot  espe- 
cially of  the  godly  in  Christ  Jesus,  are  not  a  calamity 
but  a  glorious  privilege.  This  is  the  truth  which  he 
announced  to  the  afflicted  of  his  day,  and  which 
should  still  be  proclaimed  to  all  whom  the  Lord  visits 
with  trouble  and  sorrow.  We  fail  to  understand  it. 
Our  Lord  says  He  will  give  us  rest  if  we  will  come 
unto  Him ;  but  the  more  we  follow  Him  the  more  we 


THE  PRIVILEGE    OF   SUFFERING.  371 

are  troubled  on  every  side.  To  be  connected  with 
Him  in  any  way  was  not  a  passport  to  earthly  peace, 
but  to  hardship  and  pain.  It  was  a  fatal  thing  to  the 
infants  of  Bethlehem  that  He  was  born  in  their  little 
town.  A  sword  pierced  through  the  soul  of  Mary, 
whose  glory  it  was  to  be  His  mother.  The  trials  com- 
ing on  the  twelve  whom  He  chose  to  be  with  Him  were 
so  great  as  to  bring  one  to  the  betrayal,  another  to  the 
denial,  as  to  make  them  all  at  one  time  forsake  Him. 
They  were  imprisoned,  killed  with  the  sword,  crucified 
for  His  sake,  made  to  drink  of  His  own  cup  and  be 
baptized  with  His  baptism.  Yet  He  said  to  them,  He 
says  to  all  the  millions  who  still  suffer.  He  says  to  any 
here  who  think  their  fiery  trials  a  strange  thing,  "  My 
peace  I  give  unto  you."  Ah,  dear  friends,  it  is  not  in 
the  body,  in  the  earthly  experience,  it  is  in  the  soul 
and  spirit,  in  the  life  of  heavenly  communion  which 
we  live  by  faith,  that  our  Lord  »Jesus  gives  us  rest  and 
peace.  So  it  is  all  most  blessedly  true  which  He  saj^s 
when  He  invites  us  to  come  unto  Him,  though  in  the 
world  we  still  have  tribulation  like  all  others,  and  it 
may  be  more  than  any  others. 

St.  Peter  does  not  exhort  us  to  mirth,  as  though  all 
life  were  a  frolicsome  holiday ;  he  recognizes  the  ele- 
ments of  pain  in  our  lives,  but  he  glorifies  that  suffer- 
ing by  declaring  that  it  is  a  holy  privilege.  Not  only 
does  the  apostle  thus  transfigure  pain,  speaking  the 
langiTage  of  all  Scripture  and  of  the  cross  of  Christ, 
but  there  is  something  within  us  which  says  Amen  to 
his  words,  and  the  best  thought  and  literature  of  the 
world  is  ever  reechoing  this  divine  truth.  It  is  not 
the  books  which  delude  us  with  the  idea  that  life  is  a 
frolic,  or  which,  on  the  other  hand,  only  sentimental- 
ize over  human  sorrows,  it  is  those  which  both  paint 


372  SERMONS. 

the  picture  with  sombre  colors,  and  at  the  same  time 
teach  us  to  look  straight  at  it  with  fearless  hearts, 
which  the  world  does  not  let  die. 

Mrs.  Browning,  in  her  tragedy  of  the  Exiles,  shows 
that  she  understood  the  Bible  view  of  human  trouble, 
where  she  pictures  the  life  of  Adam  and  Eve  after 
their  fall,  making  them  brave  to  enter  upon  their  hard 
lot,  penitent  but  not  despairing.  Eve  who  had  misled 
Adam  now  comforting  him,  feeling  the  wondrous 
truth  that  somehow  their  pain  was  exalting  them,  re- 
joicing in  it,  and,  with  womanly  triumph  over  it,  say- 
ing, "  My  sorrow  crowns  me."  In  a  poem  describing 
the  blindness  of  Milton,  but  written  by  another  poet, 
he  is  represented  as  saying  to  his  God,  "  This  dark- 
ness is  the  shadow  of  thy  wing ;  beneath  it  I  am 
almost  sacred."  What  some  of  his  enemies  pointed 
to  as  a  sign  of  God's  anger  against  him  he  rejoiced  in 
as  an  uplifting  favor,  bringing  him  "  within  the  radi- 
ance of  the  sinless  land,"  where  he  saw  "  resplendent 
visions,"  and  heard  "  the  flow  of  soft  and  holy  song." 
The  mighty  Shakespeare  is  never  mightier  than  while 
representing  those  who  suffer  most  as  blessed  above  all 
men  by  their  sufferings.  He  has  no  nobler  characters 
than  those  which  he  paints  as  born  but  to  suffer.  It  is 
into  the  lips  of  one  of  these  that  he  puts  the  words,  — 

"  To  me,  and  to  the  state  of  my  great  grief, 
Let  king's  assemble,  for  my  grief  's  so  great 
That  no  supporter  but  the  huge  firm  earth 
Can  hold  it  up  :   here  I  and  sorrow  sit ; 
Here  is  my  throne,  bid  kings  come  bow  to  it." 

The  great  authors  who  thus  write,  and  whose  names 
the  world  binds  to  its  heart,  do  but  take  up  and  pro- 
long the  apostolic  voice  of  triumph :  "  Sorrowful  yet 
rejoicing,"  "  having  nothing  yet  possessing  all  things," 


THE  PRIVILEGE   OF  SUFFERING.         373 

"  dying  and  behold  we  live,"  "  counted  as  sheep  for 
the  slaughter,"  yet  the  life  of  Clirist  reigning  in  our 
mortal  body.  No  doubt  there  is  a  special  blessedness 
in  the  distress  which  comes  upon  men  through  their 
devotion  to  Christ  and  His  righteous  kingdom :  yet 
the  suffering  which  is  apart  from  this,  which  comes  on 
good  and  bad  men  alike  in  the  natural  course  of  things, 
is  to  be  received  from  the  Father  of  Lights  as  one  of 
His  good  gifts ;  merely  bodily  pain  and  weakness  tak- 
ing us  away  from  the  active  duties  of  life,  and  hold- 
ing us  fast  while  we  see  our  strong  neighbors  marching 
to  the  conflict,  are  not  to  be  despised,  but  we  are  to 
glorify  God  on  that  behalf.  This  seems  like  a  hard 
thing  to  do  while  our  poor  body  is  one  mass  of  torture, 
but  it  has  been  done  by  many  servants  of  God,  not- 
ably by  St.  Paul,  who  gloried  in  his  infirmities  ;  but 
above  all  by  our  Lord  Jesus,  who  would  not  be  kept 
from  going  to  Jerusalem  to  suffer.  It  is  the  lesson 
which  our  text  reads  ;  and  we  can  learn  it,  the  strong 
Spirit  of  God  helping,  finding  with  the  pain  which 
smites  us  to  the  dust  a  joy  which  lifts  us  to  the  very 
heavens  and  right  hand  of  our  Father. 

When  I  say  that  the  suffering  which  is  our  common 
lot  on  earth  is  a  privilege,  I  do  not  mean  that  it  is  in 
itself  a  good  thing.  No  privilege  is  this.  The  only 
thing  which  is  a  good  in  itself  for  us  is  the  holy  and 
righteous  character  which  makes  us  one  with  Christ. 
Suffering  is  a  good  in  the  sense  that  it  gives  us  an 
opportunity  to  gain  this  character.  No  privilege  is 
anything  but  an  opportunity ;  and  if  any  privilege  be 
abused,  it  becomes  to  us,  not  a  good,  but  an  evil.  Thus 
all  the  events  of  our  lives  come  to  us,  each  one  con- 
taining two  possibilities,  blessing  us  if  we  take  it  the 
right  way,  but  cursing  us  if  we  take  it  the  wrong  way. 


374  SERMONS. 

Wealth  is  a  privilege  which  makes  those  who  know 
how  to  use  it  noble  and  honored,  but  which  blicfhts 
and  destroys  those  who  consume  it  on  their  own  lusts. 
Whether  one  is  born  to  it  or  achieves  it,  it  is  no  good 
in  itself  to  him.  What  is  he  doing  with  it?  is  the 
question  which  tells  whether  it  is  exalting  him  or  cast- 
ing him  down.  So  of  all  our  possessions  which  we 
are  wont  to  call  the  good  things  of  this  life,  —  knowl- 
edge, genius,  the  power  to '  think  and  feel  and  sym- 
pathize, the  skill  to  plan  and  contrive,  and  the  strength 
and  courage  to  execute.  They  are  all  but  privileges 
or  oj^portunities.  We  can  do  ourselves  harm  or  good 
with  them.  They  are  a  vantage-ground  to  either  the 
higher  or  lower  nature  in  us.  They  are  an  unsheathed 
sword  which  will  only  wound  us  if  we  know  not  how 
to  take  them,  or  which,  being  well  in  hand,  will  bless 
us  only  as  we  struggle  on  the  side  of  righteousness. 

Now  suffering  and  weakness,  which  come  somewhat 
to  all,  though  to  some  far  more  than  others,  bring  with 
them  this  double  possibility.  They  may  either  make 
better  men  and  women  of  us,  or  thoroughly  spoil  us. 
I  think  some  of  the  most  selfish,  exacting,  patience- 
trying  people  we  ever  meet  are  those  to  whom  this 
privilege  of  suffering  has  been  given.  Their  pain  is 
a  terrible  temptation,  and  a  little  experience  makes  us 
see  how  easily  they  may  yield  to  it.  We  all  naturally 
have  a  large  charity  for  the  faults  of  those  called  to 
suffer,  and  this  charity  is  greatly  increased  by  a  little 
experience  of  suffering.  The  impulse  of  sympathy 
makes  us  try  to  anticipate  their  wants  ;  we  keep  watcli 
that  they  may  sleej^ ;  we  lend  them  our  strength  to 
save  theirs ;  the  inquiry  in  the  morning  and  on  the 
street,  as  their  friends  meet  them,  is  for  their  health 
and  welfare.     For  them  the  easiest  chair,  the  sunniest 


THE  PRIVILEGE    OF  SUFFERING.         375 

window,  the  best  place  at  the  fireside,  the  choicest  del- 
icacies of  the  table.  They  are  not  permitted  to  min- 
ister, but  are  ministered  unto  by  all  about  them.  Now 
one  should  not  be  encouraged  in  a  spirit  which  resists 
all  offers  of  kindness.  We  show  ourselves  amiable  by 
accepting  help  when  we  really  need  it.  Yet  this  very 
habit,  proper  enough  and  necessary  at  times,  will  de- 
generate into  a  selfish  care  for  his  own  comfort  if  the 
invalid  does  not  watch  himself.  His  thoughts  nat^ 
urally  tend  to  be  about  himself  alone,  while  he  has 
little  thought  for  the  comfort  or  rights  of  others.  He 
may  become  a  tyrant  in  his  weakness  almost  without 
knowing  it ;  may  come  to  feel  that  there  is  really  no 
exhaustion  or  weariness  in  any  one  but  himself;  be 
angry  at  any  lack  of  alertness  or  sign  of  languor  in 
his  attendants ;  be  petulant  and  ungratefid.  when  the 
best  they  can  do  for  him  does  not  happen  to  suit  his 
humor.  Such  is  the  path  by  which  those  who  suf- 
fer much  in  body,  or  in  any  way  which  makes  them 
dependent  on  the  kindness  of  others,  may  go  down 
and  down  till  they  become  the  most  wretched  and 
unlovely  of  beings.  Let  us  not  forget,  dear  friends, 
those  of  us  who  are  called  to  suffer  much  in  any  way 
in  this  present  world,  that  we  are  exposed  all  the  time 
to  this  evil  temptation.  Our  friends  have  rights  as 
well  as  we ;  and  if  there  be  nothing  else  with  which 
we  can  repay  their  loving  attentions,  let  us  at  least 
show  them,  by  our  calm  and  patient  way  of  taking 
what  God  sends,  that  there  is  nothing  in  suffering 
upon  which  they,  too,  may  not  calmly  smile  should  it 
at  any  time  be  their  lot.  As  many  as  get  this  victory 
over  the  pain  with  which  they  must  struggle  will  be- 
gin to  learn  why  it  is  spoken  of  as  a  precious  thing  in 
the  Bible  ;  they  ^vill  not  wonder  why  Peter  told  his 


376  SERMONS. 

brethren  to  rejoice  in  it ;  tliey  will  easily  say  Amen 
when  they  hear  it  called  a  privilege  rather  than  a 
calamity.  We  must  have  high  moral  and  spiritual 
ideals  before  us,  which  we  are  struggling  to  realize,  if 
we  would  see  how  sorrow  and  weakness  and  pain  may 
help  us  in  our  struggle. 

Assuming  that  we  have  this  disposition,  this  mind 
of  Christ  which  alone  can  make  anything  a  real  good 
to  us,  our  suffering,  besides  uplifting  and  refining  us, 
brings  us  into  a  truer  sympathy  with  our  fellow-crea- 
tures about  us.  One  of  your  first  surprises,  whenever 
you  suffer  in  a  particular  way,  is  to  find  how  many 
others  are  suffering  in  a  similar  way.  Not  till  you 
are  a  mourner  yourseK  do  you  begin  to  learn  that  the 
world  is  full  of  mourners ;  not  till  you  actually  fall 
under  the  power  of  this  or  that  or  the  other  disease 
do  you  suspect  how  many  victims  it  has  all  about  you. 
Here,  again,  is  an  opportunity  to  widen  the  sphere  of 
your  sympathy.  As  your  health  made  you  able  to  re- 
joice with  them  that  rejoiced,  so  your  infirmity  helps 
you  weep  with  them  that  weep.  Your  suffering  will 
do  this  blessed  work  in  you,  finding  you  full  of  the 
spirit  of  love,  or,  finding  you  selfish  and  careless  of 
the  good  of  others,  it  will  make  you  a  misanthrope. 
Though  our  pain  and  weakness  are  such  aids  to  a  sym- 
pathetic spirit  in  us,  they  are  not  necessary  to  it.  As 
the  most  selfish  of  people  sometimes  are  the  infirm,  so 
the  most  tender  and  self -forgetting  are  the  strong  and 
vigorous.  We  sometimes  say  of  a  person,  "  Ah,  he 
cannot  feel  with  me  in  my  trouble,  having  never  ex- 
perienced it  himself."  But  such  a  reproach  may  be 
very  unjust.  That  very  friend,  who  has  never  known 
your  affliction  in  his  own  person,  may  be  most  sympa- 
thetic with  you ;  and  the  one  who  has  suffered  pre- 


THE  PRIVILEGE   OF  SUFFERING,         377 

cisely  as  you  do  may  be  wholly  indifferent.  You  can 
be  sure  of  people  in  these  things  only  as  you  know  that 
the  spirit  of  Jesus  Christ  dwells  richly  in  their  hearts. 
The  greatest  Sympathizer  the  world  has  ever  had  was 
One  who  did  not  actually  endure  some  of  the  sorest 
trials  incident  to  our  lot.  True,  it  is  said  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  that  He  is  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirm- 
ities, and  knows  how  to  succor  us  when  tempted,  having 
been  tempted  Himself.  But  this  must  mean  His  won- 
drous divine  sympathy  with  us,  for  He  never  Himself 
underwent  all  that  any  of  us  are  ever  called  to  undergo. 
He  enters  into  our  sorrow  as  the  mother  enters  into 
that  of  her  child,  only  with  infinitely  more  tenderness. 
It  is  said  of  Him  that  there  was  no  sorrow  like  His  sor- 
row, that  He  bore  our  sins  and  carried  our  sorrows.  He 
was  the  suffering  Son  of  God  on  earth ;  yet  He  did  not, 
save  by  this  mysterious  sympathy  with  us,  suffer  many 
things  which  we  suffer.  We  do  not  read  that  He  was 
ever  sick  in  all  His  life,  or  that  He  felt  any  physical 
pain  till  it  was  inflicted  upon  Him  within  a  few  hours 
of  His  death.  He  was  hungry  and  weary  and  thirsty, 
yet  was  from  fii^st  to  last  well  and  strong.  How  happy 
the  first  thirty  years  of  His  life  in  the  sweet  enclosure 
of  the  hills !  It  was  the  shadow  of  the  cross,  beginning 
to  darken  around  Him  after  His  baptism,  which  made 
Him  a  Man  of  sorrows.  He  never  sinned  as  we  all 
have,  and  hence  He  could  not,  as  we  do,  taste  the  bitter 
fruits  of  sin  :  it  is  ever  the  great  mystery  of  His  divine 
sympathy  with  sinners,  something  incomprehensible  to 
us,  that  He  should  feel  Himself  forsaken  of  God.  He 
never  felt  as  we  do  the  infirmities  of  age,  or  laid  ^vife 
or  husband,  or  child  or  parent,  or  brother  or  sister,  in 
the  grave.  Yet  this  strong  Saviour,  exempt  from  so 
much  which  we  must  suffer,  sympathizes  with  us  as 


378  SERMONS. 

no  one  else  ever  has  or  can.  We  need  Gethsemane 
with  its  bloody  sweat,  the  mocking  and  scourging  in 
Pilate's  hall,  the  via  dolorosa,  the  lacerated  frame 
on  the  tree,  that  we  may  understand  what  our  Lord's 
sympathy  with  a  suffering  race  is.  That  cross  mea- 
sures the  world's  sorrow,  tells  us  what  human  life 
really  is,  and  how  fully  our  blessed  Saviour  sympa- 
thizes in  all  its  griefs.  This  final  agony  on  Calvary 
is  our  key  to  the  heart  of  Christ,  but  it  does  not  make 
that  heart, — that  great  heart  of  unspeakable  tender- 
ness and  love.  The  infinite  sympathy  was  there  be- 
fore the  world  was,  so  that  He  could  be  said  to  have 
been  slain  before  the  foundation  of  the  world.  What 
our  Lord  is,  not  what  was  inflicted  on  Him,  makes 
Him  so  enter  into  our  sufferings  as  to  be  the  greatest 
of  all  sufferers. 

But  we,  dear  friends,  are  not  like  the  infinite  Son 
of  God  in  our  natural  power  of  sympathy.  Though 
we  have  Christ's  spirit  in  us,  we  have  it  only  according 
to  our  measure  ;  and  when  we  suffer,  it  is  more  than  an 
assurance  of  sympathy  with  other  sufferers,  —  it  widens 
the  sphere  of  our  sympathy,  enlarges  our  capacity 
to  sympathize.  Thus  it  is,  while  we  are  yearning  and 
struggling  to  be  such  as  our  Lord  was,  that  all  sor- 
rows or  pains  or  tribulations  coming  to  us  are  like  the 
bright  angels  in  the  patriarch's  dream.  We  welcome 
their  visits,  for  they  bring  us  more  opportunity,  more 
blessed  privilege  of  being  such  as  God's  own  Son  wa^, 
in  a  world  of  weakness  and  grief  and  frailty.  Not 
only  does  our  tenderness  go  out  through  a  wider  circle, 
but  those  who  suffer  see  in  us  new  assurance  that  we 
suffer  with  them,  and  thus  we  manifestly  enter  more 
and  more  into  the  fellowship  of  Christ's  sufferings. 
This  was  what  St.  Paul  especially  longed  for :  "  That 


THE   PRIVILEGE   OF  SUFFERING.         379 

I  might  know  Him  and  the  fellowship  of  His  suffer- 
ings." And  of  one  of  the  early  Christian  fathers  it 
is  related  that  he  had  so  thoroughly  learned  the  bless- 
edness of  suffering,  that  when  his  Lord  Jesus  came 
to  him  in  a  dream,  asking  him  what  he  would  have  in 
return  for  a  long  life  of  hardship  and  suffering,  he 
eagerly  exclaimed,  "  Lord,  let  me  have  more  suffer- 
ing." Yes,  dear  friends,  it  is  our  suffering,  rightly 
taken  and  rightly  used,  which  makes  us  understand 
the  old  Latin  proverb,  vincit  qui  patitur  (he  conquers 
who  suffers).  Suffering  as  the  followers  and  co-heirs 
of  Jesus  Christ,  we  find  our  way  as  conquerors  to  the 
heart  of  the  world.  The  world  sees  in  us,  somewhat 
as  in  our  Lord's  cross,  a  picture  of  its  own  spiritual 
condition.  Just  to  the  degree  that  we  are  weak  we 
become  strong,  though  poor  we  make  many  rich,  our 
darkness  is  the  light  of  the  world,  and  the  life  of 
Clirist  reigns  in  our  dying  bodies. 

Why  should  we  not  rejoice  in  our  pain,  and  greet 
it  as  the  most  welcome  of  guests,  while  it  is  thus 
brinofing:  us  into  a  closer  and  truer  union  with  the  di- 
vine  Friend  of  all  men  ?  while  it  is  thus  revealing  to 
us,  and  helping  us  more  and  more  to  enter  into,  the 
world's  sorest  needs  ? 

But  let  us  not  forget  that  the  outward  affliction  can 
bring  us  no  profit  save  as  it  finds  in  us  the  heavenly 
spirit.  The  feeble  have  advantages  which  the  strong 
do  not  have,  yet  all  have  advantages ;  and  as  we  see 
more  and  more  the  true  nature  and  objects  of  life,  we 
shall  find  that  our  God  is,  in  His  dealings  with  us,  an 
impartial  Father.  He  gives  some  of  us  opportunities 
to  grow  like  His  Son  in  one  way,  others  opportmiities 
to  grow  like  Him  in  other  ways.  No  one  can  be  like 
Him  in  all  respects,  but  all  can  be  like  Him  in  some 


380  SERMONS. 

respect.  It  is  necessary  that  some  should  be  strong 
and  others  weak,  some  sick  and  others  well,  some 
workers  and  others  sufferers,  that  some  should  speak 
and  others  keep  silent,  some  minister  and  others  be 
ministered  unto,  in  order  that  there  may  be  in  our 
Lord's  kingdom  that  variety  of  spiritual  beauty  which 
there  is  of  natural  beauty  in  the  material  world.  All 
is  lost  upon  us,  and  no  good  gift  which  the  Father  of 
Lights  sends  will  be  a  real  good  to  us,  while  no  soul  of 
goodness  lives  within  us  ;  but  if  we  are  the  friends  of 
Christ,  following  Him  in  the  regeneration,  then,  come 
what  may  of  what  is  called  good  or  ill  in  our  earthly 
speech,  it  will  but  carry  us  upward  and  forward  in  the 
blessed  way  of  all  real  good,  making  us  sure  each 
night,  as  we  look  back  to  the  morning,  that  our  loving 
Lord  has  walked  with  us  in  the  way,  and  that  our 
tent  is  pitched  "  a  day's  march  nearer  home." 


WE  ALL   DO   FADE   AS   A   LEAF. 

(Isaiah  xiv.  6.) 

The  sacred  volume  furnishes  many  touching  de- 
scriptions of  the  frailty  of  human  life.  What  can  be 
more  vivid  than  the  following :  "  Thou  carriest  them 
away  as  with  a  flood ;  they  are  as  a  sleep  ;  in  the 
morning  they  are  like  grass  which  groweth  up.  In 
the  morning  it  flourisheth  and  groweth  up;  in  the 
evening  it  is  cut  down  and  withereth  "  !  And  again : 
"  He  knoweth  our  frame ;  He  remembereth  that  we 
are  dust.  As  for  man,  his  days  are  as  grass ;  as  a 
flower  of  the  field,  so  he  flourisheth.  For  the  wind 
passeth  over  it  and  it  is  gone  ;  and  the  place  thereof 
shall  know  it  no  more."  Hardly  less  pathetic  than 
this  is  the  language  in  which  Job  so  often  bemoans 
his  fate  :  "  Man  that  is  born  of  a  woman  is  of  few 
days  and  full  of  trouble.  He  cometh  forth  as  a 
flower  and  is  cut  down :  he  fleeth  as  a  shadow  and 
continueth  not."  Speaking  of  the  mighty,  he  says  : 
"  They  are  exalted  for  a  little  while,  but  are  gone  and 
brought  low ;  they  are  taken  out  of  the  way  as  all 
other,  and  cut  off  as  the  tops  of  the  ears  of  corn." 
Equally  sad  is  the  reflection  of  the  apostle  Peter : 
"  All  flesh  is  as  grass,  and  all  the  glory  of  man  as  the 
flower  of  grass.  The  grass  withereth  and  the  flower 
thereof  falleth  away." 

Among  these  many  images  of  our  frailt}^,  none  is 
more  striking  than  the  one    suggested  by  the  text. 


882  SERMONS. 

Especially  at  this  season  of  tlie  year,  when  vegetation 
is  sinking  into  its  annual  tomb,  —  when  every  sound 
is  pensive,  when  decay  sits  on  all  the  products  of  sum- 
mer, when  the  very  light  has  grown  pale,  and  an  un- 
seen sadness  fills  the  air,  —  we  feel  the  justness,  as 
well  as  pathos,  of  the  scripture  which  tells  us  that 
"we  all  do  fade  as  a  leaf."  The  aged  feel  it,  to 
whom  the  fields  and  woods  are  now  a  picture  of  the 
autumn  of  life.  The  afflicted  feel  it,  who  have  laid 
down  their  best-beloved  to  waste  with  the  leaves  and 
flowers.  The  suffering  feel  it,  as  with  painful  step 
they  totter  along  the  pathway  of  time.  Fading  away  ! 
this  is  the  sombre  but  wholesome  truth  which  all  na- 
ture is  now  setting  before  us.  It  may  be  to  many  of 
us  an  unwelcome  truth,  but  it  forces  itself  upon  our 
notice  unasked.  We  cannot  walk  out  into  the  mead- 
ows, or  stray  through  the  forests,  or  look  up  at  the 
sky,  or  listen  to  the  hum  of  business,  without  being 
reminded  of  it.  The  thoughtful,  brooding  spirit  of 
nature  steals  upon  us  before  we  are  aware ;  the  most 
frivolous  find  themselves  slipping  involuntarily  into 
trains  of  pensive  reflection.  But  this  decay,  exhibited 
on  so  vast  a  scale  around  us,  is  not  an  isolated  and 
barren  truth.  It  contains  a  lesson.  "  We  do  fade." 
Man,  viewed  as  a  mortal  being,  is  not  exempt  from 
the  general  doom.  He  is  bound  into  a  common  broth- 
erhood with  the  most  fragile  objects  in  nature.  The 
Scriptures  point  out  this  connection,  and  trace  its 
analogies,  and  enforce  the  lessons  which  it  suggests. 
They  remind  us,  while  we  are  looking  abroad  on  the 
sickly  face  of  Autumn,  that  we  are  part  and  parcel  in 
this  fading  scene.  We  are  no  exception  to  that  law 
of  decay  which  rests  upon  all  earthly  things.  They 
fade  and  we  fade  with  them.     Nor  is  this  the  end  of 


WE   ALL   DO  FADE   AS   A    LEAF.  383 

the  lesson :  "  Wc  all  do  fade."  The  youngest  are 
doomed  to  this  process  no  less  than  the  oldest ;  the 
strongest  as  well  as  the  weakest ;  the  vigorous  equally 
with  those  whom  disease  has  smitten.  If  there  be 
any  whom  the  blight  has  not  yet  touched,  it  is  cer- 
tainly waiting  for  them.  The  fairest  cheek  must  lose 
its  bloom,  and  the  brightest  eye  its  lustre.  Chemis- 
try, perhaps  the  most  curious  of  the  sciences,  reads  a 
humiliating  lesson  to  any  who  trust  in  their  youth, 
beauty,  or  strength.  It  shows  them  that  the  elements 
which  compose  their  bodily  frames  can  all  be  found 
in  the  clods  of  the  vaUey.  When  our  friends  lay  us 
in  the  grave,  they  do  literally  commit  "  earth  to  earth, 
dust  to  dust."  We  were  all  taken  from  the  ground, 
and  are  all  returning  to  the  place  whence  we  came. 
There  is  still  another  thought,  suggested  by  the  text, 
which  it  may  be  profitable  for  us  to  consider  more 
especially  at  this  time.  Not  only  do  we  see  decay 
around  us,  in  which  we  all  without  exception  partake, 
but  this  general  decay  observed  in  nature  bears  an 
instructive  analogy  to  that  which  is  going  on  within 
ourselves  :  "  We  all  do  fade  as  a  leaf." 

This  analogy  teaches  us,  first,  that  we  fade  rapidly. 
How  brief  the  space  which  has  intervened  between  the 
birth  of  the  leaves  and  their  death !  We  can  hardly 
realize  that  autumn  has  indeed  come.  It  seems  no 
longer  ago  than  yesterday  that  we  saw  the  earth  car- 
peted and  curtained  with  the  living  colors  of  spring. 
If  we  shut  our  eyes,  the  gorgeous  expanse  returns. 
We  again  overlook  the  fields  wa\'ing  with  verdure, 
and  w^alk  in  the  odorous  groves,  listening  to  the  early 
songsters.  One  glance  abroad,  however,  dissipates 
this  bright  illusion.  The  "  sere  and  yellow  leaf,"  the 
receding  sun,  and  the  chill,  searching  winds,  remind 


384  SERMONS. 

us  that  the  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  gone,  — 
that  we  have  reached  the  sober  months,  "  the  fall 
of  the  year."  In  this  short  time  —  so  short  that  it 
seems  like  a  dream — vegetation  has  passed  through 
the  process  of  growth  ;  has  lived  and  is  now  about  to 
die.  The  genial  sap  stole  up  into  the  boughs  of  the 
oak  and  the  maple.  The  buds  started  forth  from 
every  joint,  swelling  and  bursting  with  increase  of 
life.  The  leaves  spread  themselves  out  in  the  breeze 
and  sunshine,  roofing  the  forest  and  clothing  every 
tree  in  green  garments.  All  was  fresh  and  radiant 
with  gladness  ;  and  if  we  had  then,  for  the  first  time, 
looked  on  the  gorgeous  display,  we  would  not  have  be- 
lieved that  it  was  to  vanish  so  soon  ;  that,  after  a  few 
short  weeks,  the  dead  leaves  would  strew  the  earth, 
and  the  trees  stand  like  skeletons  against  the  cold, 
gray  sky.  Nor  has  all  this  verdure  lived  to  share  in 
the  general  decay.  Much  of  it  has  perished  prema- 
turely. As  we  walked  beneath  the  pine-trees,  even 
in  spring  and  early  summer,  their  leaves  fell  thickly 
around  us.  The  work  of  decay  went  on  with  that  of 
growth ;  in  the  midst  of  life  there  was  death.  The 
sun,  with  its  hot  rays,  dried  up  many  a  leaf  before  its 
time.  Greedy  fires  have  marched  through  the  forest, 
consuming  every  green  thing.  Groves  without  number 
have  been  swept  away  by  the  woodman's  axe.  Win- 
ter, as  if  coming  back  to  be  revenged  for  the  loss  of 
his  sceptre,  smote  multitudes  of  the  early  buds.  In 
field  and  orchard  and  garden,  the  caterpillar  and  can- 
ker-worm have  aided  the  work  of  death.  Enough, 
however,  has  been  spared  for  the  final  meal ;  and  in 
this  last  ruthless  descent  of  the  Destroyer,  we  forget 
his  previous  doings.  Now,  do  we  say  that  it  is  other- 
wise with  us  ?  that  we  live  longer  and  our  life  is  more 


WE  ALL   DO  FADE   AS  A   LEAF.  385 

secure  ?  Let  us  look.  The  human  race  is  a  tree  ;  an 
evergreen,  if  you  i)lease.  But  the  evergreen  sheds  its 
leaves  as  often  as  the  deciduous  tree.  The  only  differ- 
ence is,  that  the  processes  of  growth  and  decay  go  on 
in  it  simultaneously.  Young  leaves  are  constantly 
taking  the  places  of  the  old  ones  ;  and  hence  we  do 
not  notice  their  departure.  Just  so  in  society :  for 
when  one  man  droi:)s  away  another  steps  into  his  po- 
sition ;  and  thus  Death,  by  filling  every  gap  as  soon  as 
he  makes  it,  conceals  his  work.  Once  in  about  thirty 
years  the  tree  of  humanity  sheds  its  leaves.  Those 
which  fall  before  reaching  this  age  vastly  outnumber 
those  w^hich  live  beyond  it.  And  if  here  and  there  a 
few  keep  their  hold  for  threescore  or  even  fourscore 
years,  they  are  nevertheless  soon  cut  off,  and  they  fly 
away.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  long  life  on  earth, 
though  we  sometimes  say  of  a  man  that  he  has  reached 
a  good  old  age.  The  Bible,  accommodating  itself  to 
our  poor  way  of  reckoning,  uses  similar  language. 
But  after  all,  we  go  swiftly  to  the  tomb.  We  feel 
that  the  patriarch  who  had  lived  to  be  a  hundred  and 
twent}^  years  old  was  right  when  he  said  to  Pharaoh, 
"  Few  and  evil  have  the  days  of  the  years  of  m}'  life 
been."  A  century  w^ill  not  seem  much  to  us  when 
w^e  look  back  upon  it  from  eternity.  They  have  no 
dial-plates  there ;  no  days  and  nights,  no  autumns, 
no  periods,  but  one  endless  duration.  How  much  of 
our  early  life  has  faded  from  memory  !  There  are 
months  and  seasons  wdiich  seemed  long  to  us  then,  but 
they  are  as  nothing  now.  If  w^e  strive  to  recall  them, 
we  find  that  they  have  utterly  gone  from  us.  And 
many  an  hour  which  we  have  enjoyed  since  the  leaves 
last  appeared  has  fled  forever.  But  the  shortest  of 
those   hours,  if   compared  with  this  present   life,  is 


386  SERxMONS. 

longer  than  a  century  compared  with  the  eternal  ages. 
When  we  begin  to  float  away  on  that  shoreless  ocean, 
time,  like  some  little  island,  will  soon  sink  out  of  our 
sight.  We  shall  esteem  it  as  less  than  nothing,  and 
vanity.  The  j^ast  will  disappear  like  a  bird  flying 
away  into  the  blue  ether.  It  will  vanish  like  a  swift 
ship  on  the  distant  rim  of  the  sea.  We  shall  learn 
how  frail  we  were ;  that  the  measure  of  our  days  was 
very  short ;  that  life  was  indeed  no  more  than  a  span. 
This  analogy  teaches,  secondly,  that  we  fade  imper- 
ceptibly. The  leaves  are  not  withered  all  at  once,  but 
gradually.  Though  they  live  but  a  few  months,  yet 
their  life  ebbs  away  with  an  even  flow.  We  cannot 
see  the  exact  moment  at  which  their  color  begins  to 
change.  That  there  is  change  we  know  well,  but  we 
cannot  watch  the  process  as  it  goes  on.  We  look  at 
the  leaf,  and  w^hile  we  look  it  is  fading,  but  some- 
how the  work  of  death  escapes  us.  Its  decay  is  rapid, 
as  was  its  growth,  and,  like  that,  is  imperceptible.  This 
fact  holds  good,  even  to  a  greater  degree,  in  our  own 
case.  We  can  mark  the  fading  of  the  leaves  by  com- 
paring their  hues  at  short  intervals.  The  experience 
of  many  seasons  has  taught  us  to  expect  their  death. 
The  decay  to  which  they  are  subject  is  something 
external  to  us.  But  we  fade  by  an  inward  process. 
Our  eyes  are  turned  away  from  it ;  it  is  silent  and 
deeply  hidden.  If  any  of  us  have  lived  to  be  old, 
they  cannot  mark  the  point  in  their  life  at  which  age 
began  to  steal  upon  them.  The  step  was  so  stealthy 
and  noiseless  that  they  did  not  detect  it.  They  know 
that  they  have  changed,  but  it  has  not  been  a  change 
which  they  could  trace  from  day  to  day.  Their  com- 
panions have  changed  with  them  ;  and  this  serves  to 
heighten  the  illusion.     Instead  of  feeling  that  they 


WE   ALL   DO   FADE   AS  A    LEAF.  387 

have  grown  old  themselves,  they  are  apt  to  think  that 
young  people  appear  more  youthful  than  formerly,  — 
that  the  broad  space  between  them  and  the  rising 
generation  is  caused  by  children  being  more  childish 
than  they  once  were.  They  slip  away  from  the  shore 
so  smoothly  that  they  think  they  stand  still,  and  that 
it  is  the  land  which  is  receding.  While  the  stream  of 
life  bears  them  on,  they  are  unconscious  of  motion  ; 
and  its  enameled  banks  seem  to  them  to  be  gliding 
away  behind  them.  They  are  deceived,  just  as  we  all 
are  about  the  earth's  motion.  We  know  that  it  re- 
volves, but  we  cannot  realize  the  fact.  Everything 
on  its  surface  moves  with  us,  and  hence  there  is  no 
means  of  marking  our  progi-ess.  We  sweep  through 
the  air  almost  with  the  speed  of  lightning  ;  but  all 
objects  around  us  keep  their  positions  with  respect  to 
each  other,  and  therefore  we  cannot  see  that  we  move 
at  all.  If  we  look  up  to  the  heavens,  we  say  that  it  is 
they  and  not  the  earth  which  revolves.  It  is  the  sun 
which  rises  and  sets,  and  which  goes  from  solstice  to 
solstice.  It  is  the  constellations,  not  ourselves,  which 
turn  nightly  in  the  sky.  Thus  it  seems  to  us  ;  but  we 
know  that  we  are  deceived.  And  in  like  manner  we 
move  on  toward  our  graves.  We  sometimes  say  that 
we  are  getting  near  oar  lowly  bed  ;  but  then  we  do 
not  realize  what  we  say.  Death  seems  as  far  off  as 
ever.  We  are  still  laying  plans,  and  thinking  to  our- 
selves that  to-morrow  shall  be  as  this  day.  If  we  were 
told  that  our  life  would  close  before  another  morning, 
the  announcement  would  surprise  us,  just  as  much  as 
a  like  announcement  would  startle  the  joyous  child. 
We  do  not  perceive  the  approach  of  the  chill  mes- 
senger. He  steals  over  us  like  some  magnetic  sleep. 
The  twilight  deepens  with  so  even  a  step  that  we  do 


388  SERMONS, 

not  believe  the  night  is  drawing  near.  Ah,  how  Death 
plays  with  his  victims  !  He  mocks  us  all  alike,  doing 
his  work  so  stealthily  that  we  ever  imagine  him  at  a 
distance  ;  letting  us  fill  up  the  full  term  of  human 
life,  and  then  hurrying  us  away  in  such  an  hour  as  we 
think  not  of. 

This  analogy  reminds  us,  thirdly,  that  we  fade 
utterly.  The  display  of  colors  which  the  forests  now 
make  is  indeed  charming.  Neither  spring  nor  sum- 
mer has  anything  to  be  compared  with  it.  The  land- 
scape seems  to  have  been  converted  into  one  vast 
painting,  on  which  the  artist  has  lavished  all  his  taste 
and  ingenuity.  Every  color  and  every  shade  of  the 
many  colors  seem  to  have  been  poured  out  around  us 
in  most  costly  profusion.  The  deep  crimson,  the  pur- 
ple, the  delicate  pink,  the  pale  and  the  rich  golden- 
yellow  blend  with  each  other,  and  with  still  other  dyes, 
into  all  imaginable  tints,  mingling  often  into  pictures 
the  most  gorgeous,  and  of  inimitable  beauty.  Such 
is  the  painting  which  God  hangs  out  before  us,  by  the 
side  of  which  all  that  human  genius  can  do  looks  mean 
and  contemptible.  But  He  will  in  a  few  days  with- 
draw the  picture.  We  must  look  while  we  have  a 
chance,  for  the  exhibition  will  soon  be  over.  The 
many-hued  leaves  are  dropping  down,  and  the  rain  is 
beating  them  to  the  earth,  and  soon  the  frost  will 
stiffen  them,  and  the  snow  cover  them  out  of  sight. 
They  will  not  reappear  in  the  spring,  but  their  places 
will  know  them  no  more.  They  will  turn  dark,  and 
crumble,  and  lose  their  distinctness  of  form,  and  min- 
gle together  in  an  undistinguished  mass.  The  wild- 
flowers  will  spring  up  through  new-made  loam,  and  the 
^ploughshare  will  turn  it  up  to  our  view ;  and  as  we 
walk  over  it,  we  shall  have  no  remembrance  of  the 


WE   ALL   DO   FADE  AS   A    LEAF.  389 

leaves  which  once  played  so  beautifully  in  the  setting 
sun. 

And  is  it  so  with  man  ?  It  is  indeed  so  with  mortal 
man  ;  with  the  life  which  floats  awa}^  on  the  sound  of 
the  passing  bell.  There  is  no  respite,  and  there  are 
no  exceptions.  Think  not  that  the  lovely  forms,  which 
we  have  laid  down  in  the  grave  since  the  birds  last 
sang,  will  moulder  alone.  Other  leaves  are  falling. 
We  shall  soon  be  by  their  side.  The  spade  will  ere 
long  round  the  top  of  our  lowl}^  bed,  and  that  will 
be  the  end  of  us  as  inhabitants  of  earth.  Exhorta- 
tions to  repent  will  not  trouble  us  there.  We  shall 
hear  no  more  rebuke  of  our  sins  ;  there  will  be  no 
more  Sabbaths  to  break  or  sanctify,  no  duties  to  per- 
form, no  works  of  mercy  and  love.  They  who  come 
after  us  will  forget  our  looks  and  our  deeds ;  yea,  our 
names  will  utterly  pass  away ;  and  other  generations, 
as  frail  as  we,  will  come  and  go,  and  it  will  be  with  us 
as  though  w^e  had  never  existed.  A  few  friends  may 
cherish  our  memory.  We  mf}.y,  by  our  generous  labors, 
cause  those  who  come  after  us  to  recall  our  names 
gratefully  through  many  ages.  But  this  does  not 
alter  our  fate  ;  for  we  know  that  the  monuments  shall 
crumble,  that  literatures  shall  perish,  and  that  the 
scroll  of  history  itself  shall  vanish  away.  And  is 
there  no  means  of  averting  this  doom  ?  Must  man, 
who  so  thirsts  for  immortality,  lie  down  and  rise  not 
till  the  heavens  be  no  more  ?  Such  is  indeed  the  sen- 
tence wdiieh  we  have  incurred  by  our  sin.  There  is 
nothing  in  nature  which  teaches  otherwise.  This  is 
the  sad  conclusion  to  which  man's  reasonings  lead. 
If  there  be  not  some  other  One  greater  than  we,  some 
blessed  Potentate  who  hath  immortality  in  Himself, 
we  see  no  chance  of  escape.     "  By  one  man  sin  entered 


390  SERMONS. 

into  the  world,  and  death  by  sin ;  and  so  death  hath 
passed  upon  all  men,  for  that  all  have  sinned."  This 
is  the  decision,  —  gloomy  and  terrible,  but  final.  And 
here  we  close  the  book  of  Nature,  gladly  looking  away 
from  her  stern  teachings,  to  see  if  there  be  not  some 
comfort  for  us  in  that  other  volume  which  has  come 
down  to  us  from  the  Father  of  Lights. 

Ah,  Nature  !  thou  hast  told  us  the  truth  ;  for,  as  we 
glance  along  the  blessed  leaves,  we  read  that  in  Adam 
all  die.  But  thou  hast  not  told  us  the  whole  truth ; 
for  we  also  read  that  in  Christ  all  shall  be  made  alive. 
Thou  didst  show  us  the  gloomy  front  of  the  cloud,  but 
didst  not  turn  its  silver  lining  out  to  our  view.  Thou 
hast  turned  to  us  the  dark  side  of  the  picture,  on  which 
we  saw  the  forms  of  suffering  and  death  painted ;  but 
we  have  come  round  to  the  bright  side  of  it,  and,  lo ! 
blessedness  and  life  appear.  Now  we  know  that  there 
is  One  who  doth  not  break  the  bruised  reed  ;  who  is 
very  pitiful  and  of  tender  mercy  ;  who,  though  He 
remembereth  that  we  are  dust,  pitieth  us  as  a  father 
pitieth  his  children,  and  desireth  not  our  death,  but 
that  we  may  find  life  in  Him..  "  In  Christ  all  shall  be 
made  alive."  His  blood,  poured  out  in  the  earth,  has 
stayed  the  progress  of  decay ;  and  there  shall  be  a 
resurrection  both  of  the  just  and  of  the  unjust.  Our 
bodies  and  souls  have  been  corrupted  with  sin  ;  but  far 
within  lies  a  germ  which  shall  live  when  they  perish. 
This  is  the  image  of  God,  the  seed  of  an  immortal  per- 
son, in  which  we  shall  be  raised  up  at  the  last  day. 
Here,  then,  we  have  the  whole  process  depicted ;  not 
only  the  decay,  but  the  renovation.  The  sentence  of 
Nature  is  not  softened,  but  there  is  a  hope  beyond, 
gilding  the  gloom,  which  she  did  not  unveil. 

The  lesson  of  humility  is  still  here,  and  we  take  it 


WE   ALL   DO   FADE   AS   A    LEAF.  391 

home  to  our  liearts.  We  have  abused  and  forgotten 
that  in  us  which  is  to  live  forever.  What  we  nat- 
urally pride  ourselves  on  is  yet  frail  and  fleeting. 
Our  glory  and  honor  must  be  laid  in  the  dust,  and  the 
worm  shall  eat  them  as  wool,  and  our  beauty  shall  be 
consumed.  We  find  no  language  too  strong,  no  im- 
agery too  vivid,  in  which  to  paint  the  frailty  of  that 
which  we  now  call  ourselves.  We  long  to  heap  epithet 
upon  epithet,  and  add  metaphor  to  metaphor ;  for  we 
all  do  fade  as  a  leaf,  and  the  pomp  and  might  and 
excellency  of  the  earth  are  going  down  with  us  to  the 
tomb.  Make  us  lowly  before  thee,  O  Father,  for  we 
are  crushed  before  the  moth ;  and  keep  us  from  trust- 
ing in  man,  whose  foundation  is  in  the  dust. 

But  "  he  that  believeth  in  Me,  though  he  were  dead, 
yet  shall  he  live."  We  thank  Thee  for  those  words, 
Lamb  of  God,  for  many  of  our  pious  friends  have 
already  faded  and  disappeared.  They  have  been  taken 
av;ay  from  our  firesides  and  bosoms ;  we  call  out  for 
them,  but  they  do  not  answer ;  their  portraits  smile 
upon  us  from  the  walls  ;  and  we  steal  away  often  to 
look  at  the  garments  which  they  were  wont  to  put  on. 
And  their  empty  seats,  and  the  silence  in  the  halls 
never  broken  by  their  footstep,  remind  us  that  they 
are  not  here.  But  they  have  risen ;  and  they  walk 
in  white,  for  they  are  worthy.  We  do  not  know  why 
God  afflicts  us  ;  but  they  know,  and  they  are  comforted 
concerning  us.  They  know  why  the  good  die  first, 
while  they  whose  hearts  are  dry  as  the  summer's  dust 
burn  to  the  socket.  They  know  why  such  as  Brain- 
ard,  and  Lyman,  and  Henry  Martyn  were  taken  away 
so  early.  They  know  why  Alexander,  and  Caesar,  and 
Tamerlane  were  permitted  to  ravage  the  earth.  Pas- 
cal, and  Cowper,  and  Robert  Hall  are  there,  and  they 


392  SERMONS. 

see  at  length  why  God  afflicted  them  so  in  their  life- 
time. It  is  well  with  our  Christian  friends  who  have 
faded.  They  have  faded  into  the  life  which  never 
fades  ;  and  when  they  shall  be  permitted  to  receive  us 
into  their  white-robed  company,  their  joy  will  be  full. 
And  the  little  ones,  too,  they  are  yet  alive.  You  wept 
to  see  them  fade  before  you  durst  hardly  call  them 
your  own,  for  they  dropped  like  early  spring-buds ; 
and  you  gathered  them  up,  and  laid  them  away,  sor- 
rowing that  you  should  see  their  faces  no  more :  for 
you  could  not  understand  why  Death  should  be  allowed 
to  touch  those  sweet  forms  which  had  never  been 
stained  with  sin.  But  they  understand  it,  though 
they  are  but  little  children.  They  are  learning  to  in- 
terpret and  to  love  the  ways  of  God,  and  studying 
those  mysteries  which  the  angels  have  a  desire  to 
know,  and  looking  into  plans  which  baffle  the  wise  and 
prudent  of  this  world.  And  we  thank  thee,  O  Father, 
Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  since  thou  hast  seen  fit'^o 
hide  these  things  from  us,  that  thou  art  revealing  them 
unto  babes :  even  so,  Father,  for  so  it  hath  seemea 
good  in  thy  sight. 

But  what  shall  be  the  end  of  those  who  have  sinned 
and  wull  not  believe  ?  Ah,  my  friends  I  you  are  fad- 
ing rapidly,  imperceptibly,  and  that  which  you  now 
take  delight  in  will  soon  have  vanished  utterly.  It  is 
not  mawkishuess  in  me  to  tell  you  this,  for  it  is  the 
truth.  Nor  is  it  a  truth  for  the  sick  and  weak-minded 
only.  It  is  for  you,  the  strong  man ;  for  you,  the 
ambitious  and  dashing  youth.  Your  little  life  will 
soon  be  over,  and  you  will  drop  like  the  frailest  leaf ; 
and  if  you  are  not  in  Christ,  you  will  awake  to  shame 
and  everlasting  contempt.  Nature  teaches  you  this, 
but  revelation  teaches  you  how  to  avoid  such  a  doom. 


WE   ALL   DO   FADE   AS   A    LEAF.  393 

Ye  know  whither  Christ  has  gone,  and  the  way  to 
Him  ye  know ;  but  ye  will  not  come  unto  Him  that 
ye  might  have  life.  A  few  more  days  of  hesitating, 
and  ye  shall  die  in  your  sins ;  and  then  where  He  is, 
thither  ye  cannot  come.  And  ye  shall  be  as  tares, 
which  are  gathered  from  among  the  wheat  in  harvest 
time,  and  men  bind  them  into  bundles,  and  they  are 
burned. 

Since  the  dwelling-place  of  sinful  and  imperfect 
creatures  is  so  beautiful  even  in  its  decay,  what  must 
heaven  be  !  God  is  a  being  of  perfect  wisdom,  always 
bestowing  His  care  in  proportion  to  the  value  of  the 
things  which  receive  it.  This  is  the  argument  which 
our  Saviour  used  when  He  endeavored  to  comfort  His 
disciples.  Not  a  sparrow  falleth  on  the  ground  with- 
out your  heavenly  Father,  and  ye  are  of  more  value 
than  many  sparrows.  If  God  so  clothe  the  grass,  which 
to-day  is  and  to-morrow  is  cast  into  the  oven,  shall 
He  not  much  more  clothe  you,  who  are  His  redeemed 
children?  And  so,  if  He  has  made  this  house  which 
fadeth  as  a  leaf  so  lovely,  He  will  give  proportionate 
beauty  to  our  eternal  home.  This  is  a  world  which 
sin  hath  blighted,  and  in  which  every  comely  object 
soon  passeth  away.  But  see  how  He  has  arrayed  it ! 
A  wilderness  of  charms  still  remains.  He  has  built 
it  on  a  foundation  of  gold  and  sapphire,  and  fretted 
its  broad  blue  dome  with  golden  fire  ;  into  its  green 
carpet  He  has  woven  the  lily  and  the  violet ;  and  He 
has  curtained  it  with  the  swaying  groves,  in  which  the 
robin  and  the  nightingale  have  their  home.  He  has 
made  the  human  form  surpassingly  graceful,  and 
thrown  upon  its  face  somewhat  of  the  light  of  His 
own  countenance.  We  look  abroad,  and  are  amazed 
at  the  prodigality  with  which  He  is  now  adorning  the 


394  SERMONS. 

landscape.  What  gorgeousness,  what  delicacy,  what 
taste,  we  see  beaming  from  every  hill  and  field  and 
forest,  over  which  the  very  clouds  seem  to  be  dream- 
ing in  wonder,  and  not  a  nook  or  corner  of  which 
escapes  the  curious  sunbeams  !  And  yet  this  is  only  a 
brief  exhibition  of  His  power.  He  will  soon  change 
its  countenance  and  send  it  away ;  in  a  few  short  days 
Nature  will  be  bereft  of  her  glorious  garments,  and 
present  to  us  only  a  wide  waste  of  dreary  and  lifeless 
forms.  Who,  then,  shall  attempt  to  describe  that 
world  where  there  is  everlasting  spring,  where  the 
leaves  do  not  fade,  nor  the  •flowers  wither,  and  where 
we  ourselves  shall  be  clothed  in  immortal  youth? 
Thus  far  we  have  come  in  our  contemplations,  but  we 
would  not  seek  to  go  farther.  We  pause  at  this  point, 
where  even  Inspiration  lays  down  her  pen ;  for  eye 
hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  have  entered  into 
the  heart  of  man,  the  things  which  God  hath  prepared 
for  them  that  love  Him. 


SICKNESS  AND  ITS  LESSONS.^ 

Blessed  be  God,  even  the  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the 
Father  of  Mercies,  and  the  God  of  all  comfort ;  who  coraf orteth  us  in 
all  our  tribulation,  that  we  may  be  able  to  comfort  them  who  are  in 
an)-  trouble,  by  the  comfort  wherewith  we  ourselves  are  comforted  of 
God.  —  2   COKINTHIANS,  i.  3,  4. 

How  affectionately  the  apostle  treats  the  word  '  com- 
fort '  in  this  passage !  Like  a  mother  playing  with 
her  child,  which  she  clings  to  and  cannot  let  go,  he 
clasps  it  to  his  heart  again  and  again,  drawing  it  back 
into  his  embrace  as  oft  as  he  feels  it  escaping,  and 
caressing'  it  with  a  fondness  which  seems  farther  from 
satisfaction  the  more  it  is  indulged.  The  God  of 
comfort  comforteth  us,  that  we  may  comfort  by  the 
comfort  wherewith  we  are  comforted.  Five  times  in 
the  same  breath !  A  stream  whose  fountain-head  is 
the  God  of  mercies,  whose  banks  and  channel  are  his 
own  tribulation,  whose  final  receptacle  is  the  hearts 
of  them  that  are  in  trouble !  The  one  sweet  thought 
is  so  breathed  through  the  utterance,  and  poured  over 
every  phrase  and  syllable,  as  to  make  it  seem  like  a 
bunch  of  asphodel  just  culled  from  the  gardens  of 
immortality. 

This  pastor  of  the  Corinthian  church,  so  far  from 
murmuring  or  repining  amid  his  troubles,  "  blessed  " 
God  for  them  all,  "even  the  Father  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,"  interweaving  that  "  Name  of  names  " 

^  Preached  December  13,  1863,  upon  recovery  from  a  dangerous 
illness. 


396  SERMONS. 

as  if  to  remind  himself  that  no  disciple  can  be  a 
suiferer  in  comparison  with  the  suffering  Son  of  God. 
He  blessed  God,  not  on  his  own  account  only  or 
chiefly,  but  more  especially  on  the  behalf  of  his 
brethren,  who,  he  considers,  are  to  reap  some  of  the 
richest  benefits  of  his  afflictions.  So  possessed  is  he 
with  the  one  purpose  of  being  useful  to  other  men's 
souls,  that  he  rejoices  in  his  calamities,  not  so  much 
for  any  fruit  they  may  bring  to  himself  as  for  the 
greater  fitness  they  work  within  him  to  be  a  minister 
of  truth  and  consolation.  He  gloried  in  his  infirmi- 
ties, —  his  "  thorn  in  the  flesh,"  his  stammering 
speech,  his  inferior  personal  jDresence,  —  if  thereby  the 
grace  of  God  might  more  abound  unto  any.  Was 
he  afflicted  and  delivered  unto  death?  he  reminds 
the  Christians  at  Corinth  that  it  was  for  their  sake ; 
"it  is  for  your  consolation  and  salvation."  Was  he 
brought  down  to  the  edge  of  the  grave  (apparently 
by  sickness)  ?  he  says :  "  We  were  pressed  out  of 
measure,  above  strength,  insomuch  that  we  despaired 
even  of  life ;  that  we  should  not  trust  in  ourselves, 
but  in  God  who  raiseth  the  dead."  He  couples  even 
the  kindness  of  his  friends  with  his  own  suffering, 
and  reckons  it  all  as  so  much  good  seed  soAvn  for 
their  advantage,  saying,  "  Ye  also  helping  together  by 
prayer  for  us,  that  for  the  gift  bestowed  upon  us  by 
the  means  of  many  persons,  thanks  may  be  given  by 
many  on  our  behalf."  Not  loss,  but  gain ;  gain  not 
only  to  himself,  but  to  the  church  which  he  served  In 
Christ's  name,  was  what  he  desired,  and  what  he  had 
already  found,  in  his  affliction. 

How  free  and  unstudied  the  intercourse  of  Paul 
with  the  Corinthians,  as  brought  to  view  by  this  scrip- 
ture !     None  of  that  unwillingness  to  talk  about  him- 


SICKNESS  AND  ITS   LESSONS.  397 

self  and  his  private  experiences,  —  that  affectation  of 
modesty  than  which  few  things  can  be  more  immodest. 
He  is  all  unreserve,  childlike  simplicity,  and  open- 
heartedness  ;  for  he  knows  that  there  is  no  bitter  feel- 
ing in  himself,  and  also  that  his  most  secret  thought 
will  meet  a  waiting  sympathy  in  them.  None  of  that 
worst  form  of  egotism,  —  that  pride  which  is  too 
proud  to  speak  of  itself,  that  egotism  whose  veil  is 
silentness,  which  is  found  in  cautious  maturity  but 
never  in  little  children,  of  whom  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven ;  none  of  this  in  the  free-speaking  teacher, 
who  tells  his  beloved  flock  all  about  "  the  trouble 
which  came  to  him  in  Asia,"  recognizing  it  as  a  com- 
mon sorrow  both  to  them  and  himself,  and  believing 
that  God  meant  it  all  for  a  common  blessing. 

Such  is  the  great  example  under  whose  protection 
I  might  stand  this  morning,  while  speaking  of  God's 
dealings  with  me  through  the  last  summer  and  au- 
tumn, were  I  not  sure  that  your  own  welcome  of  such 
speech  will  be  my  only  needed  protection. 

The  first  impression  one  has,  upon  waking  from  the 
long  delirium  of  fever,  is  very  wonderful.  Conscious- 
ness comes  like  a  stunning  blow  upon  all  his  sensibili- 
ties ;  there  is  a  sudden  paralysis  both  mental  and  phys- 
ical, and  he  lies  upon  his  sea  of  pain  almost  indifferent 
to  his  fate,  like  a  ship  which  some  mighty  wave  has 
struck,  leaving  it  a  helpless  wreck  on  the  waters.  He 
is  prostrate,  dumb,  nearly  bereft  of  sense  and  feeling. 
Then  from  this  strange  stupefaction  there  is  a  sud- 
den swing  into  the  opposite  extreme.  The  taste,  the 
touch,  the  hearing,  the  eyesight,  become  painfully 
acute.  A  flower  anywhere  near  is  at  once  identified 
by  its  strong  fragrance,  the  faintest  line  of  the  pic- 


398  SERMONS. 

tures  on  the  walls  is  distinct  and  prominent,  no  whis- 
pering of  attendants  can  be  so  low  as  to  escape 
detection,  and  the  beating  of  a  child's  drum  in  the 
street  is  like  the  rapid  firing  of  artillery.  Such  is  the 
tension  of  the  sensibilities  that  one  look  of  kindness 
may  excite  floods  of  tears,  and  the  smallest  inatten- 
tion, whether  fancied  or  real,  is  often  felt  as  a  cruel 
injury.  The  heart  almost  breaks  with  impatience, 
and  a  feeling  of  bitter  neglect,  during  the  long  hours 
which  seem  to  pass  between  the  expression  of -a  wish 
and  its  gratification.  The  ice  and  water  are  miles 
away  from  the  sufferer ;  and  he  asks,  when  the  bit  of 
toast  appears,  if  they  had  to  ''  raise  the  wheat "  before 
making  it.  Then  succeeds  a  feeling  of  awe,  as  the 
patient  becomes  strong  enough  to  hear  how  many 
weeks  have  dropped  out  of  his  life,  —  when  he  can 
bear  to  be  told  that  his  recollection  of  endless  wan- 
derings over  torrid  seas,  and  of  desperate  struggles  to 
escape  from  cruel  foes  and  reach  a  home  that  seemed 
to  fly  before  him,  is  only  the  memory  of  a  dreadful 
dream ;  when  he  may  safely  learn,  though  to  his  utter 
astonishment  and  against  his  clearest  convictions,  that 
certain  great  events  in  the  world  have  not  taken  place ; 
when  he  first  gathers,  from  various  remarks  dropped 
around  his  bed,  that  he  had  so  far  ceased  from  among 
the  living  as  to  be  numbered  with  those  who  inhabit 
silence.  This  feeling  of  awe  is  for  days  uppermost 
and  oppressive.  The  invalid  resembles  soldiers  just 
out  of  battle,  sobered  into  speechlessness  by  the  near 
vision  of  what  they  have  passed  through.  He  per- 
ceives that  his  feet  have  stood  within  the  gates  of 
eternity,  and  that  he  has  looked  on  the  Face  which  ^ 
few  are  permitted  to  behold  and  live. 

After  this  season  of  intense  vitality  and  wonder, 


SICKNESS   AND  ITS  LESSONS.  399 

having  become  used  to  its  dread  experience,  the  mind 
rehipses  into  a  more  passive  state.  Then,  as  I  now 
remember,  the  kixury  of  convalescence  begins.  One 
is  so  aware  of  his  wealoiess  as  to  feel  it  no  trial,  but 
the  rather  a  pleasure,  to  be  treated  like  an  infant. 
There  is  just  enough  of  restoration  to  lie  still,  and 
breathe,  and  be  moved  about,  and  amused  with  pres- 
ent trifles.  I  can  never  forget  this  stage  of  my  recov- 
ery. The  sick-chamber  was  as  large  a  world  as  my 
energies  required,  the  smallest  matters  completely 
absorbed  me,  the  passing  moment  was  so  large  that  1 
hardly  thought  of  either  the  past  or  future.  It  must 
have  been  under  such  an  experience  that  the  Psabnist 
said,  "  Thou  renewest  my  youth ;  "  that  so  many  have 
said,  with  Hugh  Miller,  "  After  long  seasons  of  sick- 
ness, childhood  seems  to  come  again."  I  found  in  the 
commonest  objects  and  events  a  delight  before  unsus- 
pected. Inspired  texts,  and  fragments  of  familiar 
hymns,  came  to  me  with  such  peculiar  sweetness  as  to 
excite  smiles  of  pleasure ;  and  the  calm  tones  of  a 
human  voice,  or  any  haK-heard  strain  of  music,  filled 
me  with  pure  gladness.  It  was  during  this  experi- 
ence, and  as  my  faculties  waxed  stronger,  that  it 
seemed  to  me  I  could  understand  how  Richard  Baxter 
was  moved  to  wi-ite  so  sweetly  of  the  Everlasting  Rest, 
—  how  Edward  Payson  could  say,  "  When  I  formerly 
read  Bunyan's  description  of  the  Land  of  Beulah, 
where  the  sun  shines  and  the  birds  sing  day  and  night, 
I  used  to  doubt  whether  there  was  such  a  place ;  but 
now  my  own  experience  has  convinced  me  of  it,  and 
it  infinitely  transcends  all  my  previous  conceptions." 
I  shall  never  recall  some  of  the  earlier  days  of  the 
autumn  just  gone,  without  believing  that  I  may  justly 
claim  to  know  how  Peter  felt  in  the  mount  when  he 


400  SERMONS. 

said,  "  It  is  good  for  us  to  be  here ;  let  us  build  three 
tabernacles,  Lord,  one  for  thee,  one  for  Moses,  and 
one  for  Elias."  But  Transfiguration  scenes  cannot 
last  always.  It  is  the  office  of  a  pious  memory  to 
preserve  them  ;  to  hang  them  up  in  the  picture-gallery 
of  Christian  experience,  where  they  shall  admonish 
and  cheer  the  toiling  believer.  With  a  soul  thus 
attuned,  and  still  dwelling  apart  from  earthly  dis- 
turbance, you  will  easily  comprehend  how  much  I 
enjoyed  on  that  fair  October  morning  when  I  sat  in 
this  pulpit,  —  having  entered  no  other,  nor  worshiped 
publicly,  save  in  tents  or  beneath  the  open  sky,  since 
standing  here  more  than  a  year  before,  —  you  will 
judge  at  once,  I  say,  what  sacred  pleasure  the  hour 
afforded  me,  nor  wonder  that  my  heart  kept  repeating, 
as  I  listened  to  the  choir  and  the  minister,  and  felt 
the  spirit  of  the  place,  "  There  are  no  songs  like  the 
songs  of  Zion,  there  are  no  words  like  the  words  of 
Jesus,  there  is  no  house  like  the  house  of  God."  The 
clouds  and  darkness  round  about  me,  which  had  been 
gradually  turning  out  their  silver  lining  upon  the 
night  of  my  affliction,  now  blazed  suddenly  with  a 
celestial  splendor,  like  those  floating  about  Alpine 
summits,  of  which  Professor  Tyndall  says :  "  They 
were  very  grand,  —  grander,  indeed,  than  anything  I 
had  before  seen.  Some  of  them  seemed  to  hold  thun- 
der in  their  breasts,  they  were  so  dense  and  dark ; 
others,  with  their  faces  turned  sunward,  shone  with 
the  dazzling  whiteness  of  the  mountain  snow ;  while 
others  again  built  themselves  into  forms  resembling 
elm-trees  loaded  with  foliage.  Towards  the  horizon 
the  luxury  of  color  added  itself  to  the  magnificent 
alternation  of  light  and  shade.  Clear  spaces  of  amber 
and  ethereal  green  embraced  the  red  and  purple  cu- 


SICKNESS  AND  ITS  LESSONS.  401 

muli,  and  seemed  to  form  the  cradle  in  which  they 
swung-.  Close  at  hand  squally  mists,  suddenly  engen- 
dered, were  driven  hither  and  thither  by  local  w  inds ; 
while  the  clouds  at  a  distance  lay  like  '  angels  sleeping 
on  the  wing,'  with  scarcely  visible  motion.  Mingling 
with  the  clouds,  and  sometimes  rising  above  them, 
were  the  highest  mountain-heads,  and  as  our  eyes  wan- 
dered from  peak  to  peak,  onwards  to  the  remote  hori- 
zon, space  itself  seemed  more  vast  from  the  manner 
in  which  the  objects  it  held  were  distributed."  There 
is  a  Mont  Blanc  in  Christian  experience,  and  I  am 
gratefid  for  the  belief  that  my  feet  were  permitted 
for  a  little  while  to  stand  on  its  apocalyptic  summit. 

But  now,  as  returning  health  brought  me  nearer  to 
the  activities  of  life,  and  I  beheld  the  duties  wdiich 
must  ere  long  —  though  not  so  soon  nor  so  fully  as  I 
had  hoped  —  be  resumed,  misgivings  began  to  mar  my 
peace.  There  was  a  reluctance  to  undertake  again 
the  work  of  a  pastor  in  Boston,  —  work  so  manifold, 
and  so  exhausting,  if  one  attempts  it  all  wdth  a  pur- 
pose to  do  it  well.  I  w^ondered  that  I  had  ever  dared 
to  try  it,  and  that  it  had  not  crushed  me  long  ago. 
This  dread,  and  expectation  of  failure,  became  so  op- 
pressive that  life  at  times  seemed  hardly  desirable. 
In  my  ingratitude  to  God,  I  murmured  that  He  had  not 
permitted  me  to  die,  when  dying  would  have  been  so 
much  less  painful  than  it  was  to  get  well.  Struggling 
against  this  sinful  fear,  and  gradually  subduing  it,  I 
trust,  was  the  remembrance  of  God's  faithfulness. 
Would  He,  who  had  so  wonderfull}^  succored  me  in 
the  past,  forsake  me  in  days  to  come  ?  I  knew  that 
it  is  always  safe  for  a  man  to  be  where  God  places 
him,  and  to  go  about  the  labor  which  God  appoints ; 
that  the  strength  will  come   in  the  day  when   it  is 


402  SERMONS. 

needed ;  that  He  who  gives  dying  grace  will  also  give 
grace  for  the  life  which  He  marvelously  restores ;  that 
there  can  never  be  any  failure,  but  only  victory,  now 
and  always,  to  him  who  makes  God's  will  his  own. 
Aiding  these  suggestions  of  faith,  was  the  desire  to 
be  actively  associated  once  more  with  those  whose 
kindness  had  so  abounded  to  me  and  mine ;  whose 
strong  crying  unto  God  had  moved  His  everlasting 
arm ;  who  had  spoken  so  comfortingly  to  her  whose 
hope  was  ready  to  perish ;  who  had  sought  out  for  me 
the  choicest  gifts  of  the  garden  and  conservatory,  and 
taken  care  that  no  want  of  the  sick-chamber  should  be 
unsupplied ;  who  took  to  their  own  homes  those  too 
young  to  see  suffering  ;  who  stood,  through  weary  and 
breezeless  nights,  over  one  all  unconscious  of  their 
ministering.  Gratitude  to  God  for  these  friends, 
who  thus  cared  for  one  not  a  long  time  their  neighbor 
or  pastor  ;  his  boyhood  passed  in  a  far-off  valley  un- 
known to  fame ;  his  only  church  and  Sunday  school, 
throughout  that  period,  a  Christian  home  ;  literally, 
here,  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land :  yet  coming  from 
the  wilderness  to  this  far-famed  Zion ;  venturing  into 
such  a  blaze  of  intellect  and  culture  as  this  city  is 
renowned  for ;  preaching  the  truth  as  he  learned  it  from 
the  Scriptures,  in  times  so  likely  to  make  it  an  offense 
unto  many,  but  listened  to,  borne  with,  cheered  on, 
and  seconded  more  and  more  yearly :  his  desire  from 
the  first,  in  the  long  struggle  now  sprinkling  the  land 
with  blood,  to  take  such  a  position  and  so  perform  his 
part  as  to  be  worthy  of  the  past,  and  leave  a  good 
example  to  the  future,  not  obscuring  but  honoring, 
and  if  possible  making  brighter,  that  history  which 
you  as  a  church  so  justly  revere  ;  this  desire,  imper- 
fectly carried  into  action,  shamed  by  so  many  greater 


SICKNESS  AND  ITS  LESSONS.  403 

sacrifices,  even  unto  death,  as  the  absence  of  some 
faces  and  your  mourning  apparel  remind  me  to-day ; 
this  desire,  as  I  know  at  length,  appreciated  and  aided 
in  the  expression,  —  gratitude  to  God,  I  say,  and  the 
wish  not  to  show  a  base  distrust  of  those  who  have  so 
generously  befriended  me,  are  an  admonition  to  be 
persuaded,  by  this  signal  experience,  to  go  with  alac- 
rity and  joy  about  the  duties  of  the  future. 

The  lessons  of  severe  sickness  are  numerous  and  va^ 
rious.  Of  these  I  will  venture  to  name  a  few,  which 
seem  appropriate  to  the  instructions  of  the  sanctuary. 

1.  We  should  learn  from  such  experiences  that  our 
life  is  a  treasure  which  belongs  to  God.  1  say,  we 
should  learn,  for  nothing  singidar  or  uncommon  has 
haj^pened  to  me.  All  who  have  lived  to  maturity  can 
remember  times  when  God's  own  hand  was  interposed 
to  snatch  them  from  death ;  some  hair-breadth  escape 
or  mysterious  deliverance,  or  a  return  to  health  from 
the  cold  shadow  of  the  grave,  when  it  seemed  that  no 
human  help  could  avail.  I  know  that  God  shows  His 
goodness  more,  and  may  claim  a  larger  gratitude, 
where  He  has  not  permitted  the  calamity  to  come ; 
but  so  thoughtless  are  we  that  the  gift  is  seldom 
viewed  rightly,  until,  having  been  despaired  of,  we  re- 
ceive it  anew.  Especially  may  this  blessed  view  be 
obtained  where  one's  weakness  is  so  great,  and  his  re- 
covery so  gradual,  as  to  withdraw  hizn  for  a  consider- 
able time  from  distracting  affairs.  It  is  the  soul  med- 
itating and  praying  alone,  under  the  canopy  of  its 
trouble,  which  sees  that  the  afflicting  and  the  redeem- 
ing hand  are  the  same,  and  which  learns  to  say  with 
Pascal,  in  that  memorable  prayer:  " Grant, O  my  God, 
that  in  uniform  equanimity  of  mind,  I  may  receive 
whatever  happens ;  since  we  know  not  what  we  should 


404  SERMONS. 

ask,  and  since  I  cannot  wish  for  one  thing  more  than 
another  without  presumption  and  without  setting  my- 
self up  as  a  judge,  and  making  myself  responsible  for 
those  consequences  which  Thy  wisdom  has  justly  de- 
termined to  conceal  from  me.  O  Lord,  I  know  that 
I  know  but  one  thing;  which  is,  that  it  is  good  to 
follow  Thee,  and  evil  to  offend  Thee.  Beyond  that,  I 
laiow  not  what  is  better  or  worse  in  an3rthing.  I 
know  not  which  is  more  profitable  for  me,  sickness  or 
health,  wealth  or  poverty,  or  any  other  of  the  things 
of  this  world.  This  is  a  discovery  beyond  the  power 
of  men  or  angels,  and  which  is  veiled  in  the  secret  of 
Thy  providence  which  I  adore,  and  which  I  do  not 
desire  to  fathom." 

When  God  takes  a  life  and  suspends  it  over  the 
abyss,  letting  it  down  into  the  sides  of  the  grave 
until  it  disappears  from  human  sight,  or  drawing  His 
dark  pavilion  around  it,  and  flying  away  with  it  into 
we  know  not  what  secrecy,  —  if  He  then  restores  that 
life  to  its  place  among  men,  the  impress  of  His  owner- 
ship is  too  plain  upon  it  not  to  be  seen ;  it  is  His,  and 
should  be  devoted  to  the  glory  of  His  kingdom,  as  He 
has  shown  by  doing  with  it  as  He  willed.  Sending 
back  that  life,  after  friends  have  once  yielded  it  into 
His  hands,  teaches  that  He  has  something  still  for  it 
to  accomplish  on  the  earth.  Thenceforth  it  may  serve 
no  other  master,  nor  engage  in  any  unholy  labor.  It 
is  God's  own  offering  to  humanity,  as  really  so  as  the 
gift  of  His  eternal  Son.  It  is  a  life  sent  into  the 
world  to  carry  forward  His  merciful  purpose,  to  be 
the  servant  of  righteousness  and  holiness,  not  confer- 
ring with  flesh  and  blood,  but  ever  with  the  Spirit 
which  giveth  wisdom.  It  is  a  life  consecrated  to  what- 
ever God    looks   on  with  pleasure,   and  desiring  no 


SICKNESS  AND  ITS  LESSONS.  405 

earthly  inlieritance,  but  content  to  know  that  a  build- 
ino-  not  made  with  hands  awaits  it  in  the  heavens. 

o 

Said  Robert  Hall,  that  prince  of  modern  preachers, 
and  an  eminent  sufferer,  having  just  been  restored 
from  the  gates  of  death :  "  I  wish  to  bow  with  the 
deepest  submission  to  that  awful,  yet  I  trust  paternal. 
Power  which,  when  it  pleases,  confounds  all  human 
hopes,  and  lays  us  prostrate  in  the  dust."  And  again, 
writing  to  the  same  friend,  after  a  dangerous  illness, 
he  says  :  "  I  am  more  and  more  convinced  that  nothing 
deserves  to  be  called  life  that  is  not  devoted  to  the 
service  of  God ;  and  that  piety  is  the  only  true  wis- 
dom. But,  alas !  how  difficult  it  is  to  get  these  les- 
sons deeply  impressed  on  the  heart,  and  wrought  into 
the  whole  habit  of  the  mind !  "  Oh,  my  friends,  who 
have  at  any  time  looked  within  the  veil,  let  us  ever 
hearken  to  the  voice  pursuing  us  out  of  that  thick 
gloom,  saying,  "  Ye  are  not  your  own,  for  I  have  re- 
deemed you  ;  "  and  may  it  be  our  unbroken  and  full 
consolation  henceforth,  that,  whether  living  or  dying, 
we  are  the  Lord's  ! 

2.  Severe  illness  should  open  to  us  new  views  of 
the  sympathy  of  Christ.  That  sympathy  is  wonder- 
ful, and  to  us  incomprehensible,  —  as  we  feel  more 
and  more,  the  more  our  own  sphere  of  sympathy  is  en- 
larged. Dr.  Chalmers,  wishing  to  show  that  increase 
of  knowledge  deepens  one's  con\dction  of  ignorance, 
drew  a  white  circle  on  a  blackboard  and  said :  ''  The 
larger  you  make  this  circle  of  the  known,  the  more  of 
the  unknown  will  its  circumference  touch."  So,  as 
our  hearts  expand,  we  become  more  conscious  of  that 
Infinite  Heart  which  surrounds  us  all.  We  touch 
it  with  a  broader  circumference,  and  look  off  upon 
it  from  more  advanced  points,  only  to  discover  that  it 


406  SERMONS. 

is  without  a  shore.  Each  new  experience  of  sorrow 
widens  the  circle  of  our  sympathy.  That  trouble,  in- 
creasing our  magnetic  power,  draws  to  us  many  who 
have  experienced  the  same.  There  is  a  larger  fellow- 
ship of  hearts,  and  a  new  discovery  of  human  woe. 

But  the  tenderest  spirit  soon  learns  how  little  it  can 
know  or  share  of  the  anguish  about  it ;  and  so  con- 
templates with  ever-increasing  wonder  that  sympathy 
which  feels  all  the  pains  we  bear.  Though  reason 
stands  aghast  at  this  truth,  yet  practically  it  is  con- 
fessed by  all  Christian  hearts.  Whenever  or  what- 
ever we  suffer,  the  words  of  the  Man  of  Sorrows  are 
most  powerful  to  soothe  and  sustain.  If  we  are 
tempted,  we  love  to  think  first  of  all  on  His  tempta- 
tions. If  we  are  desolate.  He  had  not  where  to  lay 
His  head.  If  we  are  forgotten  in  any  extremity.  His 
disciples  slept  during  His  agony.  If  we  are  avoided  by 
a  truth-hating  world.  He  passed,  "  a  lonely  stranger," 
through  life.  Gethsemane  turns  all  our  shadows  into 
morning,  and  our  bitterest  crosses  are  lost  and  swal- 
lowed up  in  His.  Every  other  tie  may  perish,  every 
other  love  prove  false,  but  His  is  a  symjDathy  that 
never  fails.  No  indifference  can  chill  it,  no  time  can 
weaken  it,  no  sorrow  can  exhaust  or  transcend  its 
healing  power.  The  woes  of  all  the  world  are  but  a 
slight  elevation  from  which  to  behold  a  little  of  that 
love  which  passeth  knowledge.  And  hence,  consider- 
ing the  variety  of  mortal  experience,  —  every  life  hav- 
ing in  it  a  sorrow  which  earth  cannot  heal,  —  there  is 
no  hyperbole,  but  only  calm  and  literal  statement,  in 
those  Scriptures  which  teach  that  a  Christian  hope  is 
the  pearl  of  great  price,  and  that  all  other  riches  are 
wisely  spent  in  purchasing  the  riches  of  a  conscious 
and  constant  fellowship  with  Christ. 


SICKNESS   AND  ITS   LESSONS.  407 

3.  Sickness,  attended  with  delirium  for  several 
weeks,  has  confirmed  my  faith  in  the  immortality  of 
the*soul. 

I  speak  not  now  of  the  resurrection  of  the  body, 
that  separate  wonder.  Of  this  we  find  no  instance, 
but  only  a  few  imperfect  analogies,  in  nature ;  and  in 
proof  of  it  we  must  rely  on  the  historic  fact  of 
Christ's  resurrection,  together  with  His  miracles  rais- 
ing the  dead,  and  on  certain  teachings  transcending 
reason,  given  by  the  apostles  as  the  Holy  Ghost 
moved  them.  The  resurrection  of  the  body  is  a 
solacing  truth  which  Christianity  alone  brings  to  our 
notice  ;  the  immortality  of  the  soul  is  a  truth  taught 
by  reason  without  inspiration. 

Insanity  seems  never  to  have  been  rigidly  defined. 
No  prudent  person  would  undertake  to  say  just  where 
it  begins.  Perhaps  the  wisest  opinion  we  can  hold 
respecting  it  is,  that  all  men  are  more  or  less  insane ; 
differing  not  in  the  fact,  but  only  in  degree,  and 
destined  to  bear  the  infirmity  until  death  shall  be 
swallowed  up  of  life.  Some  may  be  afflicted  with 
this  unsoundness  to  an  extent  which  renders  them 
irresponsible  for  the  time  being;  in  others  it  may 
amount  only  to  w^hat  is  called  eccentricity,  in  which 
cases  it  can  and  should  be  controlled  by  a  Christian 
determination.  But  it  is  apparent  to  me  now,  that 
insanity,  while  disordering  those  faculties  which  con- 
nect us  with  the  outer  and  passing  world,  does  not 
reach  the  highest  powers  of  the  mind.  Reason  is  not 
dethroned.  If  her  conclusions  are  wild,  that  wild- 
ness  lies  in  the  impressions  which  she  is  obliged  to 
take  for  her  premises,  not  in  the  logic  by  which 
she  carries  them  to  their  results.  As  a  discovering 
faculty,  '•'  her  looks  commercing  with  the  skies,"  she 


408  SERMONS. 

still  recognizes  the  supremacy  of  goodness,  and  brings 
every  act  reported  by  the  senses  to  that  divine  ordeal. 
It  is  in  the  senses,  in  that  mortal  organism  which  con- 
veys external  and  conditioned  facts  to  the  mind,  that 
the  disease  resides.  The  judge  on  the  bench  decides 
according  to  evidence ;  it  is  the  witnesses  that  are 
at  fault  if  the  verdict  be  unjust.  The  insane  man 
adheres  obstinately  to  his  conclusions,  for  he  has 
reached  them  logically,  and  it  is  impossible  to  show 
him  that  his  premises  are  false. 

Since,  then,  the  disorder  is  all  in  the  sensuous  part, 
and  the  purely  spiritual  faculties  act  as  calmly  and 
unerringly  as  ever  in  their  own  proper  sphere,  we 
infer  that  these  are  never  reached  by  weakness  or 
decay.  Exempt  from  the  fate  of  that  organism 
through  which  they  manifest  themselves  here,  they 
abide  in  undiminished  vigor,  waiting  for  that  glorified 
body  which  shall  never  falter  in  the  service  of  their 
high  demands.  The  acuteness  of  a  delirious  person, 
the  desperation  with  which  he  pursues  his  train  of 
inferences,  his  ingenuity  in  parrying  objections  and 
marshalling  proofs,  the  indignant  surprise  with  which 
he  listens  to  contradictions,  —  all  this  ought  to  teach 
us,  and  I  wonder  it  has  not  before  now,  that  the  action 
of  the  spirit  becomes  more  godlike  as  the  senses  fail, 
and  that  it  rings  out  and  proclaims,  through  these 
"  jangled  bells,"  the  great  truth  of  its  immortality. 

4.  So  near  an  approach  to  death  has  shown  me  the 
wisdom  of  being  ready  always  for  the  life  which  is 
beyond  death.  To-day  is  the  day  of  salvation.  The 
command,  "  Set  thy  house  in  order,"  comes  to  us  while 
our  faculties  are  yet  clear  and  healthful.  We  cannot 
be  certain  of  anything  which  is  undertaken  amid  the 
throes  of  dissolution.  There  is  one,  but  only  one  — 
the  thief  on  the  cross  —  of  whom  we  may  positively 


SICKNESS   AND   ITS   LESSONS.  409 

say  that  he  was  turned  from  the  power  of  Satan  unto 
God  while  dying.  How  the  heart  of  the  poet  Cowper 
yearns  toward  a  deceased  friend  of  skeptical  opinions 
in  the  followino-  extract  from  a  letter  to  John  New- 
ton :  ••'  But  perhaps  he  might  be  enlightened  in  his 
last  moments,  and  saved  in  the  very  article  of  disso- 
lution. It  is  much  to  be  wished,  and  indeed  hoped, 
that  he  was.  Such  a  man  reprobated  in  the  great  day 
would  be  the  most  melancholy  spectacle  of  all  that 
shall  stand  at  the  left  hand  hereafter.  But  I  do  not 
think  that  many,  or  indeed  any,  will  be  found  there 
who  in  their  lives  were  sober,  virtuous,  and  sincere, 
truly  pious  in  the  use  of  their  little  light,  and  though 
ignorant  of  God  in  comparison  with  some  others,  yet 
sufficiently  informed  to  know  that  He  is  to  be  feared, 
loved,  and  trusted.  An  operation  is  often  performed 
within  the  curtains  of  a  dying-bed,  in  behalf  of  such 
men,  that  the  nurse  and  doctor  have  no  suspicion  of. 
The  soul  makes  but  one  step  out  of  darkness  into 
light,  and  makes  that  step  without  a  witness."  And 
then  this  gentle  psalmist  confesses  the  reason  of  his 
willingness  to  believe  in  a  death-bed  repentance.  He 
adds  :  "  My  brother's  case  has  made  me  very  charitable 
in  my  opinion  about  the  future  state  of  such  men." 
But  no  voice  has  ever  come  to  us  from  the  other  side 
announcing  the  state  of  that  vast  multitude  who  have 
delayed  to  grapple  with  eternity  until  the  final  breath 
and  gasp  of  time.  We  hope  for  all,  and  may  be  com- 
forted concerning  them,  as  we  read  the  story  of  that 
conversion  on  Calvary ;  yet,  with  so  slender  a  support 
to  cling  to,  who  should  dare,  in  his  own  case,  to  pre- 
sume? Totally  false  impressions  were  conveyed  to 
my  mind,  days  before  any  one  suspected  delirium ; 
and  wishes  were  expressed,  and  even  gratified,  which 
afterwards  were  viewed  with  regret.     What  if  those 


410  SERMONS. 

directions,  so  kindly  carried  out  by  friends,  had  per- 
tained to  some  weighty  and  sacred  matter?  and  how 
heart-crushing  the  reflection,  on  that  shore  from  which 
none  ever  pass  to  this  world,  that  the  mistake  must 
remain  uncorrected,  working  out  perhaps  bitter  and 
direful  results,  while  the  ages  roll !  I  am  persuaded 
now  that  many  last  testaments  —  of  the  rich  bequeath- 
ing their  possessions,  of  parents  choosing  guardians 
for  their  children,  of  emperors  disposing  of  their 
thrones  —  have  been  executed  when  the  mind  was 
bewildered  and  deceived.  Insanity,  not  suspected  by 
friends,  is  the  cause  that  such  testaments  are  some- 
times found  so  strangely  ill-advised,  not  honoring  the 
testator,  nor  conferring  benefit,  but  the  rather  evil, 
upon  the  iiiberitors.  If,  then,  we  hold  any  trust  which 
may  become  a  power  of  mortmain  controlling  other 
lives  for  their  weal  or  their  woe,  ought  w^e  not  to 
avail  ourselves  of  the  calm  moments  of  health,  while 
false  impressions  are  least  likely  to  mislead  the  judg- 
ment, and  when  aU  the  moral  perceptions  are  accurate 
and  clear,  that  our  posthumous  influence,  our  "  life 
beyond  life  "  in  this  world,  may  not  curse  but  bless 
posterity  ? 

But  before  all  these  matters  there  is  one  vast  and 
overshadowing  concern.  "  Set  thy  house  in  order  ;  " 
but  have  you  yet  planned  and  builded  a  hope  for 
eternity  ?  Possibly  this  inquiry  finds  you  f idl  of  un- 
certainty and  irresolution:  not  decided  whether  the 
Scriptures  are  all  true,  or  partially  false;  inclining 
now  to  this  and  now  to  that  system  of  religious  faith ; 
sometimes  on  the  point  of  believing,  and  then  again 
stoutly  denying  that  you  are  in  bondage  to  sin  ;  to-day 
almost  persuaded  to  be  a  Christian,  and  to-morrow 
doubtful  of  the  authority  of  Christ ;  listening,  for  one 
Sabbath  hour  and  with  fear,  to  a  voice  sounding  out 


SICKNESS  AND  ITS  LESSONS.  411 

of  the  dread  future,  but  turning  back  still  to  be  led 
captive  by  a  passing'  world ;  idling  away  your  hours 
along  the  banks  of  this  stream  of  time,  and  building- 
no  ark  for  your  imperilled  soul,  in  which  it  may 
securely  abide  when  forced  upon  shoreless  and  un- 
traversed  waters !  Let  us  never  forget,  my  friends, 
while  owning  the  vanity  of  human  life,  that  it  is  also 
of  vast  importance.  It  is  vain  certainly,  as  the  in- 
spired Preacher  contends,  if  we  consider  only  its 
duration,  and  its  meagre  interests  and  rewards.  But 
granting  that  it  is  only  a  point,  still  it  is  the  point  on 
which  an  eternity  revolves.  The  moments  are  few 
and  fleeting,  but  in  them  we  scatter  seed  which  is  to 
bear  us  a  harvest  either  of  corruption  or  of  life  ever- 
lasting. Let  us  not  stand  wavering  and  questioning 
while  the  golden  sands  of  our  probation  are  so  swiftly 
departing.  Let  us  seize  the  opportunity,  still  gra- 
ciously lengthened  out  to  us,  of  securing  that  mighty 
future  for  which  the  present  is  given.  Recounting 
the  manifold  goodness  of  our  God,  and  the  comforts 
wherewith  He  has  comforted  us  in  every  tribulation, 
let  us  not  any  longer  presume  on  a  favor  nowhere 
promised ;  but,  yielding  our  souls  to  that  other  Com- 
forter sent  in  the  Father's  name  unto  the  heirs  of 
salvation,  let  us  be  so  renewed,  and  built  up  in  faith 
and  true  holiness,  that,  whenever  the  last  sand  shall 
drop,  we  can  each  one  say,  with  our  diAane  Teacher 
and  Lord,  "  I  have  glorified  Thee  on  the  earth,  I  have 
finished  the  work  which  Thou  gavest  me  to  do."  A 
life  of  which  this  high  testimony  sliall  constitute  the 
befitting  close  cannot  be  incomplete,  however  feeble 
or  short ;  and  all  its  sharp  discipline,  though  not  joy- 
ous but  grievous  now,  shall  reappear,  transfigured  by 
the  indwelling  Christ,  in  those  bright  robes  awaiting 
it  in  heaven. 


THE  ABUNDANT  ENTRANCE. 

For  so  an  entrance  shall  be  administered  unto  you  abundantly  into 
the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  —  2 
Peter  i.  11. 

I  HAVE  never  been  able  to  explain  to  myself  sat- 
isfactorily the  uplifting  influence  which  these  words 
have  upon  me  whenever  I  read  them.  And  this  feel- 
ing of  joy  and  wonder  I  no  doubt  share  with  all  imper- 
fect Christians, — longing  and  struggling  to  be  holy, 
yet  compassed  about  with  infirmities,  and,  despite 
their  efforts,  borne  down  and  backward  by  the  onsets 
of  temptation.  This  text  is  to  be  classed  with  others, 
spoken  from  time  to  time  by  holy  men  as  they  were 
moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  utter  to  us  the  deep 
things  of  God.  We  feel  their  meaning,  but  are  un- 
able to  articulate  it  in  words  of  our  own.  Something 
in  them,  which  takes  hold  of  us  with  wondrous  power, 
escapes  our  poor  human  speech.  Nothing  but  the 
Spirit,  which  makes  intercession  for  us  with  groan ings 
that  cannot  be  uttered,  is  able  to  breathe  their  mean- 
ing through  the  depths  of  our  souls,  in  a  kind  of  in- 
articulate joy  and  consolation.  The  curtain  is  lifted 
up,  but  the  glory  disclosed  baffles  our  comprehension. 
We  are  caught  in  the  embrace  of  celestial  melodies ; 
yet  it  is  not  the  full  anthem,  but  only  broken  strains, 
that  are  wafted  down  to  us. 

The  apostle  Peter  is  here  looking  forward  to  that 
scene   in  which  a  redeemed   saint   passes   from   the 


THE  ABUNDANT  ENTRANCE.  413 

church  militant  to  the  church  triumphant.  It  is  the 
liour  of  death  to  the  Christian  victor.  He  sees  that 
disciple  departing  out  of  the  world,  yet  to  him  it  is  not 
a  departure,  but  "an  entrance."  Going  from  time 
into  eternity  is  not  the  ending  of  life  so  much  as  its 
beginning.  "  Their  works  do  follow  them."  A  nobler 
service  awaits  them  than  they  have  hitherto  performed. 
Not  only  this,  but  the  faithful  believer,  coming  up  out 
of  the  warfare  of  the  present  life,  has  an  entrance 
administered  to  him  "abundantly."  What  is  there 
stored  up  under  this  idea  of  abundance  which  makes 
it  so  comforting  to  our  despondent  hearts  ?  "  An  abun- 
dant entrance."  Can  we  fathom  that  expression  ? 
Why  does  it  come  to  us  when  we  are  almost  ready  to 
yield  in  the  struggle,  and  cause  us  to  mount  up  afresh 
as  on  wings  of  eagles  ?  "  Be  lifted  up  ye  everlasting- 
doors,  and  the  King  of  Glory  shall  come  in,"  is  the 
welcome  which  awaits  the  Captain  of  our  salvation. 
Is  there  to  be  such  a  lifting  up  of  doors,  and  opening 
of  the  gates  till  they  stand  wide  apart,  for  each  poor 
soul  sprinkled  with  the  blood  of  that  Captain  ?  If  so, 
how  wonderful !  It  is  an  unsj^eakable  thing ;  a  mira- 
cle of  divine  love  not  possible  for  us  to  utter.  And 
this  entrance,  even  for  you  and  me,  my  brother,  is  into 
a  kingdom ;  the  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour, 
who  bought  us  for  it  with  His  own  blood  ;  a  kingdom 
which  does  not  pass  aw^ay,  like  those  set  up  by  men  in 
this  world,  but  which  is  everlasting ;  an  abundant  en- 
trance into  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ. 

We  stand  with  the  inspired  apostle,  and  gaze  upon 
the  scene  as  he  paints  it,  while  that  entrance  is  "  min- 
istered," overflowing  with  a  solemn  joy  at  the  thought 
of   how   much   more   it    suggests    than   it    expresses. 


414  SERMONS. 

"What  must  it  be  to  be  there?"  is  the  question 
which  our  unsatisfied  hearts  are  all  the  time  asking ; 
for  though  we  sing  of  the  realms  of  the  blest,  the 
noontide  of  glory,  the  anthems  of  rapture,  the  rivers 
of  pleasure,  all  this  imagery  does  not  tell  the  full 
story ;  neither  have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  the 
things  which  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love 
Him.  Beyond  all  that  we  see,  there  is  something  un- 
seen; and  toward  that  unexplored  realm  the  soul  is 
ever  leaping  forward,  dwelling  in  it  by  faith,  and 
finding  there  a  blessedness,  not  yet  comprehended, 
which  belittles  the  best  joys  of  the  present  time. 
When  we  sit  by  the  side  of  the  sea,  and  look  out  on 
its  bright  surface  mirroring  many  a  white  sail,  our 
thoughts  do  not  stop  even  at  its  outmost  rim,  but  leap 
beyond  all  it  discloses  to  us,  and  go  wandering  over 
and  through  its  invisible  wastes.  The  fascination 
arises,  not  from  the  seen,  but  from  the  unseen :  what 
is  revealed  to  us  would  grow  commonplace  in  a  little 
while,  but  for  those  vast  regions  and  depths  over 
which  is  drawn  the  veil  of  waters.  The  great,  still 
forest-trees,  weaving  their  leafy  arches  over  us,  draw 
us  on  into  their  avenues,  not  by  what  they  hang  out 
visibly  before  us,  but  by  that  nameless  spell  which 
comes  to  us  from  their  far,  inmost  depths:  the  re- 
cesses of  silence,  of  mystery,  of  shadows  yet  unpro- 
faned  by  human  footstep,  are  the  sanctuary  we  seek. 
When  we  look  on  the  setting  sun,  we  cannot  think  of 
it  merely  as  a  sign  that  the  day  is  past.  This  thought 
could  never  awaken  those  feelings  of  solemn  wonder 
with  which  we  always  behold  the  outgoings  of  the 
evening.  Our  minds  go  forward  to  what  is  beyond. 
That  withdrawing  from  our  sight  marks  an  ''  entrance  " 
into  the  unseen ;  it  suggests  to  us  the  wonders  of  a 


THE  ABUNDANT  ENTRANCE.  415 

realm  not  yet  revealed.  Those  golden  glories  seem  to 
us  to  skirt  the  doorway  into  heaven,  and  we  stand  on 
the  edge  of  the  sea  of  glass  that  is  before  the  throne. 

Now  the  power  which  these  scenes  in  nature  exert 
upon  us  may  help  us  in  explaining,  or  rather  in  seeing 
why  we  cannot  explain,  the  power  of  such  words  of 
Scri2)ture  as  are  uttered  in  the  text.  The  soul  leaps 
beyond  all  that  is  said,  to  the  unspeakable ;  the  scene 
put  before  us  suggests  that  of  which  we  can  only  say 
that  it  is  a  far  more  exceedin":  and  eternal  weight  of 
glory.  To  him  who  walks  by  sight,  all  things  have  their 
ending  here.  But  to  him  who  walks  by  faith,  all  these 
"  endings,"  so  called,  are  only  beginnings.  What  is  an 
exit  to  the  man  of  the  world,  is  to  him  an  entrance. 
The  hour  of  his  departure  is  the  hour  of  his  sublimest 
hopes ;  for  it  is  only  death  itself  which  dies,  and  his 
foot  is  on  the  threshold  of  a  temple  into  which  he  is 
going  to  join  in  the  everlasting  song. 

"  It  is  not  death  to  die,  — 
To  leave  this  weary  road, 
And,  'mid  the  brotherhood  on  high, 
To  be  at  home  with  God." 

How  perverse  our  way  of  looking  at  the  matter! 
It  is  not  loss  to  die,  but  gain.  It  is  not  the  end, 
but  the  beginning  of  all  that  is  fair  and  blessed  ; 
not  a  departure,  but  an  entrance,  —  an  entrance  into 
our  everlasting  kingdom.  Thanks  be  to  God,  who 
by  His  word  of  inspiration  teaches  us  this  truth,  to 
which  our  natural  heart  cannot  attain.  Thanks  to 
Him  again,  and  in  sweeter  and  loftier  words  if  He  has 
given  us  His  spirit,  so  that  we  can  take  hold  of  the 
truth  and  be  lifted  up  by  it  into  that  vision  of  the 
glory  to  come  w^hich  takes  from  death  its  sting.  Is  it 
not  the  great  attainment  of  life  to  be  able,  when  its 


416  SERMONS. 

last  hour  comes,  to  hear  the  chorus  of  heavenly  wel- 
comes before  us  drowning  the  plaintive  farewells 
which  follow  after  us  ?  —  to  be  able  to  turn  upon  our 
natural  fears,  and  silence  their  disturbing  voice  with 
the  glad  words,  — 

"I'm  returning,  not  departing  ; 
My  steps  are  homeward  bound. 
I  quit  the  land  of  strangers 
For  a  home  on  native  ground. 

"  I  am  rising,  and  not  setting  ; 
This  is  not  night,  but  day. 
Not  in  darkness,  but  in  sunshine, 
Like  a  star,  I  fade  away. 

"  All  is  well  with  me  forever ; 
I  do  not  fear  to  go. 
My  tide  is  but  beginning 
Its  bright  eternal  flow." 

The  meaning  of  that  great  welcome  into  heaven, 
which  the  faithful  Christian  receives  in  the  hour  of 
death,  does  not  come  out  so  fully  as  it  should  in  our 
English  Bible.  The  figure  which  St.  Peter  uses  is 
of  military  origin.  He  paints  the  dying  believer  as  a 
soldier  returning  to  his  native  city  in  triumph  after 
a  tedious  warfare.  The  idea  of  a  chorus,  and  of  a 
long  train  of  citizens  coming  out  to  meet  him,  and  to 
escort  him,  with  songs  of  victory  and  the  jubilant 
strains  of  instruments  of  music,  into  the  presence  of 
Christ,  is  contained  in  the  original  word.  The  apos- 
tle sees  the  heroic  Christian  disciple  honored  with  a 
welcome  into  heaven,  which  reminds  him  of  the  tri- 
umphs accorded  to  great  military  heroes  in  all  coun- 
tries and  times.  So  early  as  the  time  of  Abraham 
we  find  notice  of  this  custom.  When  he  was  return- 
ing from  the  slaughter  of  the  kings,  Melchizedek  came 
out  to  meet  him  and  blessed  him.     After  the  victory 


THE   ABUNDANT   ENTRANCE.  417 

of  Israel  over  the  Philistines,  in  the  battle  at  which  the 
giant  of  Gath  was  slain,  while  the  armies  were  return- 
ing home,  "  the  women  came  out  of  all  the  cities  of 
Israel,  singing  and  dancing,  to  meet  king  Saul,  with 
tabrets,  with  joy,  and  with  instruments  of  music." 
We  remember  the  return  of  our  armies  at  the  close  of 
the  war  for  the  Union,  —  how  our  people  flocked  to 
the  capital  of  the  nation,  and  what  pains  were  taken 
by  all,  both  small  and  great,  to  express  to  them  the 
deep  gratitude  of  the  country  saved  under  God  by 
their  valor.  But  nothing  of  this  nature  probably 
ever  surpassed  those  triumphs  with  which  Roman  gen- 
erals were  honored,  and  accounts  of  which  were  famil- 
iar to  the  apostles,  even  if  they  had  not  witnessed  them. 
The  elaborate  descriptions  of  some  of  those  triumphs, 
by  the  native  historians,  —  of  Scipio  returning  from 
Carthage,  of  Caesar  coming  home  from  the  conquest 
of  Gaul,  of  Titus  and  Vespasian  bringing  back  the 
spoils  of  the  East,  —  amaze  us.  We  wonder  at  the 
vast  pains  taken  to  express  to  the  victorious  warrior, 
for  a  single  day,  the  almost  wild  adulation  of  the  whole 
Eoman  people.  There  was  indeed  much  cause  for  the 
custom  which  grew  up,  of  putting  a  slave  beside  the 
crowned  victor  in  his  golden  chariot,  whose  office  was 
to  remind  him  of  his  frailty,  and  that  he  was  but  a 
man  after  aU,  lest  his  heart  should  be  too  much  lifted 
up  ^vithin  him  in  the  midst  of  these  demonstrations. 
Like  these,  and  yet  how  wondrously  unlike  them, 
the  entry  of  each  humble  follower  of  Christ  into  His 
everlasting  kingdom !  His  entrance  shall  be  minis- 
tered unto  him  abundantly,  —  with  such  demonstra- 
tions of  gladness  as  never  greeted  a  Roman  general, 
—  for  he  has  conquered,  not  a  province,  but  the  world. 
There  is  no  need  to  put  a  monitor  beside  him,  to  keep 


418  SERMONS. 

him  from  being  unduly  elated  ;  for  he  has  put  down 
within  himself  all  those  lusts  which  war  against  the 
soul,  and  is  kept  holy,  blameless,  undefiled  unto  his 
Lord's  coming,  at  whose  feet  he  lays  the  crown  of 
victory,  exclaiming,  as  a  part  of  the  victory,  ''Thou 
alone  art  worthy." 

This  likening  of  the  Christian  to  a  soldier,  though 
common  to  all  the  apostles,  is  more  frequent  in  St. 
Paul's  writings  than  elsewhere.  He  loved  to  call  him- 
self the  soldier  of  Christ,  a  soldier  of  the  cross  ;  and 
Christ  Himself  is  the  great  Captain  of  his  salvation. 
The  young  man  Saul  first  appears  distinctly  before  us 
as  a  military  commander.  - —  There  was  something  in 
the  duties  of  that  office,  —  its  exposures,  discipline, 
perils,  and  encounters  which  pleased  his  heroic  temper. 
The  memory  of  it  followed  him  all  through  his  apos- 
tolic toils  and  sufferings  for  Christ.  His  description 
of  that  whole  armor  of  God,  which  he  bids  the  be- 
liever take  to  himself,  found  in  the  last  chapter  of 
Ephesians,  is  a  marvel  of  brevity,  accuracy,  and  com- 
pleteness. And  the  image  of  a  warfare,  under  which 
he  views  the  Christian  life,  follows  him  all  through 
to  the  closing  hour.  He  is  still  a  soldier  when  he 
stands  on  the  verge  of  time,  his  foot  pressing  the 
heavenly  threshold,  his  earthly  tabernacle  ready  to  be 
dissolved,  and  the  house  not  made  with  hands  lifting 
up  its  goodly  proportions  into  the  horizon  of  his  faith. 
"  I  have  fought  a  good  fight,"  he  says ;  "  I  have  fin- 
ished my  course,  I  have  kept  the  faith :  henceforth 
there  is  laid  up  for,  me  a  crown  of  righteousness, 
which  the  Lord,  the  righteous  Judge,  shall  give  me 
at  that  day."  Peter  says,  in  one  place,  that  his 
brother  Paul  had  written  some  things  hard  to  be  un- 
derstood ;  but   this    figure  of    a    triumphing  warrior 


THE   ABUNDANT  ENTRANCE,  419 

seems  not  to  have  puzzled  him  at  all.  For  he,  too, 
now  that  he  was  nearing  the  everlasting  kingdom  of 
his  Saviour,  loved  to  feel  that  the  glorified  saints 
would  come  out  to  meet  him  in  long  procession,  and 
escort  him,  with  an  abundant  entrance,  into  his  Lord's 
presence.  And  the  prayer  of  the  dear  old  man,  for 
all  who  love  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  is  that  they  may 
receive  the  like  precious  welcome.  If  it  be  true,  as 
the  Romish  branch  of  the  Christian  church  teaches, 
that  St.  Peter  is  the  gate-keeper  of  the  New  Jerusa- 
lem, holding  the  keys  which  unlock  its  pearly  gates, 
with  what  joy  must  he  perform  his  office,  as  one  bat- 
tle-stained pilgrim  after  another  comes  up  out  of  the 
tribulations  of  this  life,  and  waits,  under  the  archway 
of  the  everlasting  doors,  for  the  glittering  cohorts 
which  are  to  usher  him  in  ! 

That  is  an  entrance  which  the  welcome  home  given 
to  the  earthly  conqueror  may  well  suggest,  but  by 
which  it  must  in  some  things  be  forever  surpassed. 
More  like  it  w^as  that  entry  into  Jerusalem,  on  the 
first  day  of  the  week,  when  the  Prince  of  Peace  came 
not  as  princes  of  this  world  come,  with  banner  and 
trumpet  and  garments  rolled  in  blood,  but  meek  and 
lowly,  well  pleased  with  the  people,  who  cut  down 
palm  branches  and  spread  their  garments  in  the  way, 
and  blessing  the  little  children  shouting  hosanna  be- 
fore Him  as  He  went  up  into  the  Temple  ;  not  like  that 
in  the  agony  to  which  it  led,  —  as  the  prelude  to  Geth- 
semane,  Pilate's  Hall,  Golgotha,  —  but  like  it  in  the 
serene  peacefulness  of  the  victor,  in  the  unmixed  glad- 
ness of  the  welcome,  the  holy  purit}^  and  sweetness  of 
spirit  which  blooms  out  through  the  entire  scene. 
Bunyan,  giving  his  impression  of  the  entrance  of  re- 
deemed souls  into  heaven,  says  :  "  A  company  of  the 


420  SERMONS. 

heavenly  host  came  out  to  meet  them.  .  .  .  They  com- 
passed them  round  on  every  side :  some  went  before, 
some  behind,  and  some  on  the  right  hand  and  some  on 
the  left,  continually  sounding  as  they  went,  with  melo- 
dious noise,  in  notes  on  high  ;  so  that  the  very  sight 
was,  to  them  that  could  behold  it,  as  if  heaven  itself 
was  come  down  to  meet  them.  .  .  .  There  were  also 
that  met  them  with  harps  and  crowns,  and  gave  them 
to  them  ;  the  harps  to  praise  withal,  and  the  crowns  in 
token  of  honor.  Then  I  heard  in  my  dream,  that  all 
the  bells  in  the  city  rang  again  for  joy,  and  that  it  was 
said  unto  them,  '  Enter  ye  into  the  joy  of  your  Lord.'  " 
But  even  Bunyan,  bold  as  his  conceptions  are  of  the 
Christian's  entrance  into  Paradise,  does  not  attempt 
to  reveal  all  the  glory  of  their  triumph,  for  he  adds  : 
"  Just  as  the  gates  were  opened  to  let  in  the  men,  I 
looked  in  after  them,  and  behold  the  city  shone  like 
the  sun  ;  the  streets  also  were  paved  with  gold,  and 
in  them  walked  many  men,  with  crowns  on  their  heads, 
palms  in  their  hands,  and  golden  harps,  to  sing 
praises  withal.  There  were  also  them  that  had  wings, 
and  they  answered  one  another  without  intermission, 
saying, '  Holy,  holy,  holy  is  the  Lord.'  And  after  that 
they  shut  up  the  gates  ;  which,  when  I  had  seen,  I 
wished  myself  among  them." 

But  perhaps  our  misgiving  hearts  say  that  such  wel- 
comes can  await  only  extraordinary  Christians,  —  the 
Pauls,  Luthers,  Whitfields,  Brainards,  Judsons,  whose 
hearts  flamed  with  zeal  for  their  Lord.  Undoubtedly, 
as  the  stars  differ  one  from  another,  so  shall  it  be  in 
the  resurrection.  But  I  think  this  difference  will  be 
in  the  persons  themselves  rather  than  in  their  welcome. 
God  is  rich  in  mercy  toward  us,  even  though  we  were 
dead  in  our  sins,  and  raises  us  up  into  heavenly  places, 


THE  ABUNDANT  ENTRANCE.  421 

that  He  may  show  the  exceeding  riches  of  His  grace 
in  Christ  Jesus,  saving  us  through  our  faith,  which  is 
His  gift,  and  not  for  our  works'  sake,  lest  any  man 
should  boast.  Though  He  puts  before  us  no  tempta- 
tion to  be  unfaithful  Christians,  but  stimulates  us  to 
entire  consecration  by  assuring  us  that,  if  we  sow  spar- 
ingly, we  shall  reap  also  sparingly,  yet  they  who  came 
into  the  vineyard  at  the  eleventh  hour  received  every 
man  his  penny  ;  and  upon  the  things  least  honorable 
more  abundant  honor  is  bestowed,  and  God  chooses  not 
the  mighty  things,  but  the  weak,  foolish  things  of  this 
world  rather  than  the  wise,  that  no  flesh  should  glory 
in  His  presence.  All  is  of  grace.  Every  soul  going 
up  to  be  met  by  that  celestial  escort  is  a  trophy  of 
the  victorious  conflict  of  the  Son  of  God  with  sin  and 
death.  For  His  sake  alone,  the  ascending  pilgrim  is 
worthy ;  and  hence  he  is  more  worthy,  a  brighter  wit- 
ness to  the  power  of  redemption,  as  he  is  feebler,  and 
weighed  down  with  a  heavier  load  of  infirmities.  The 
glad  father,  we  read,  rejoiced  most,  not  over  his  elder 
son  ever  with  him,  but  over  the  prodigal.  That  the 
lost  should  be  found,  that  the  dead  should  be  alive 
again,  was  special  cause  for  thanksgiving;  and  so 
shall  it  be,  among  the  angels  of  God,  over  one  weak, 
faltering  sinner  who  has  the  courage  to  repent  and 
set  his  face  homeward,  with  a  feeling  of  sorrow  and 
un worthiness  bowing  him  down  while  he  toils  forward. 
The  greatest,  the  most  conspicuous,  those  who  make  us 
wonder  at  their  zeal  and  devotion,  are  not  without  us 
made  perfect.  We  also  which  believe  do  enter  into 
rest.  God  hath  made  us  all  partakers  of  the  same 
joy.  True,  we  are  exhorted  to  lay  up  treasure  in 
heaven  ;  to  make  to  ourselves  friends  with  the  mam- 
mon of  unrighteousness,  who  shall  receive  us,  when 


422  SERMONS. 

our  eartlily  tabernacles  fail,  into  everlasting  habitar 
tions.  It  will  be  blessed,  imsj)eakably  blessed,  if  we 
are  able  to  discern,  in  that  descending  escort,  the  faces 
of  any  kindred  to  whom  we  have  tenderly  performed  all 
the  offices  of  natural  affection  in  Christ's  name,  —  the 
faces  of  any  children  or  youth  whom  we  taught  out 
of  the  word  of  God,  and  drew  within  the  shelter  of 
His  covenant ;  the  faces  of  Christian  friends  to  whom 
we  kindly  ministered,  watching  over  them,  not  for 
their  halting,  but  for  their  edification,  till  they  were 
taken  away  before  us,  —  blessed  if  we  can  see,  in  the 
welcoming  throng,  any  souls  from  the  region  of  the 
shadow  of  death,  to  whom  we  sent  the  messengers  of 
Christ  and  His  salvation ;  any  who  once  hungered 
and  we  fed  them,  or  were  thirsty  and  we  gave  them 
drink,  or  sick  and  in  prison  and  we  visited  them. 
But  "not  unto  us,  not  unto  us,"  will  be  our  joyous 
confession,  as  we  go  up  into  the  kingdom.  All  these, 
whom  we  helped  in  the  days  of  their  suffering,  will 
minister  our  entrance  unto  us  abundantly ;  yet  when 
we  see  the  King  in  His  beauty,  the  utmost  that  we 
have  done  will  not  prevent  us  from  saying  that  we  are 
unprofitable  servants,  and  joining,  with  lowly  voice, 
in  the  ascription  which  no  creature  is  too  holy  to 
make :  "  Blessing,  and  honor,  and  glory,  and  power, 
be  unto  Him  that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto 
the  Lamb,  for  ever  and  ever." 

There  are  victories  to  be  achieved  in  the  heart  sub- 
limer  than  any  we  win  outwardly  on  the  world's  broad 
stage.  He  that  ruleth  his  own  spirit  —  bringeth  it, 
that  is,  into  sweet  acquiescence  with  the  holy  and 
blessed  will  of  God  —  is  greater  than  he  that  taketh 
a  city.  Man  looketh  on  the  outward  appearance,  but 
God  on  the  heart.     The  angels  watch  our  spiritual 


THE  ABUNDANT  ENTRANCE.  423 

conflicts,  as  they  did  the  temptation  of  Christ  in  the 
desert,  and  His  agony  in  the  garden.  The  victory  is 
rejoiced  in,  and  a  record  of  it  made  in  God's  book  of 
remembrance,  whenever  we  conquer  an  evil  desire  ;  our 
patience  amid  difficulties,  our  fortitude  under  heavy 
burdens,  our  cheerfulness  through  everything  that 
would  fret  and  annoy,  our  unmurmuring  submission 
when  God  smites  us  with  the  rod  of  His  chastisement, 
are  noted  down ;  and  there  is  nothing  hidden  of  this 
lowly  discipleship  which  shall  not  be  revealed,  nothing 
covered  which  shall  not  be  made  known,  but  every 
man  shall  have  praise  of  God  for  all  that  he  has  se- 
cretly denied  himself,  or  silently  suffered,  or  done  for 
his  Lord's  sake  in  unseen  and  wearisome  paths. 

Such,  my  struggling  Christian  brother,  is  the  view 
which  the  Scriptures  give  of  your  passage  out  of  mor- 
tality into  immortality.  And  this  is  the  picture  which 
we  should  hang  up  in  our  minds,  over  against  all  those 
gloomy  forebodings  of  our  death  which  fallen  nature 
suggests.  The  terrors  of  dissolution,  the  racking  pain 
and  agony,  the  darkness,  and  the  silence  from  which  we 
shrink  back  with  awful  dread,  cannot  be  overcome  by 
our  natural  strength,  or  in  any  direct  conflict.  It  is 
faith,  beholding  the  glory  to  which  death  conducts  us, 
that  transfigures  the  final  scene.  The  thanatopsis 
which  nature  gives  is  appalling,  but  that  which  faith 
supplies  casteth  out  all  fear.  It  makes  us  long  to  de- 
part. It  makes  us  think,  with  a  serene  thankfulness,  of 
the  kindred  and  friends  in  Christ  who  have  been  taken 
from  our  side.  We  stand  like  Elisha  by  the  river, 
praising  God  for  His  goodness  to  those  from  whom 
we  have  been  parted  asunder  ;  gazing,  with  a  sublime 
joy,  upon  the  chariot  of  fire,  and  the  horses  of  fire, 
by  which  they  are  carried  up  out  of  our  sight  into 


424  SERMONS. 

heaven ;  and  glad  beyond  measure  if  we  may  take  up 
tlieir  descending  mantle,  and  go  forward  in  the  good 
fight  of  faith,  a  double  portion  of  the  spirit  in  which 
they  triumphed  resting  upon  us,  till  we,  too,  shall  be 
permitted  to  lay  down  our  burdens,  and  pass  over  into 
that  radiant  land  where  the  wicked  cease  from  trou- 
bling and  the  weary  are  at  rest.  Here  it  is  crosses ; 
there  it  shall  be  crowns.  Here  it  is  struggles  ;  there 
it  shall  be  victory.  Here  all  our  joys,  with  our  days 
and  years,  have  an  end ;  there  they  shall  only  have 
their  beginning  forevermore.  Here  our  hopes  die 
with  each  descending  sun  ;  there  an  everlasting  morn- 
ing shall  dawn.  Here  we  tread  j^aths  which  are  nar- 
row and  strait,  and  which  but  few  have  the  courage  to 
tread  with  us ;  there  an  entrance  will  be  ministered 
unto  us  abundantly,  through  the  ample  gates,  by  a 
great  company  of  the  glorified  which  no  man  can 
number.  Here  we  stand  like  unfinished  ships  on  the 
shore,  and  must  submit  to  all  the  cutting,  hewing, 
bending,  and  riveting  needful  to  make  us  ready ; 
there  the  word  shall  be  given,  and  we  shall  launch 
away,  all  sail  set,  trembling  with  immortal  vigor  in 
every  part,  upon  that  sea  whose  waves  are  peace,  and 
where  the  dark  shadows  of  our  sins  shall  be  no  more 
seen  or  felt  forever. 


THE  VICTORY  OVER  DEATH. 

Thy  years  shall  have  no  end.  —  Psalms  eii.  27. 

These  words  are  the  exclamation  of  a  trustful  and 
adoring  joj. 

The  psalmist  has  just  been  meditating  upon  his  o^vn 
years,  which  came  to  an  end  so  rapidly,  one  after  an- 
other, that  their  swift  succession  surprised  and  star- 
tled him  :  but  while  he  is  overwhelmed  by  the  thought 
that  his  years  will  soon  be  numbered,  he  finds  comfort 
and  lofty  repose  of  soul  in  knowing  that  the  years  of 
God,  whom  he  has  made  his  refuge,  have  no  end.  He 
says  that  his  "  days  are  consumed  like  smoke,"  that 
his  "  heart  is  smitten  and  withered  like  grass."  He 
repeats  the  comment,  "  My  days  are  like  a  shadow  that 
decline th,  and  I  am  withered  like  grass ;  "  and  then 
he  escapes  from  the  consciousness  of  his  own  frailty  in 
the  sublime  words,  "  Thou,  O  Lord,  slialt  endure  for- 
ever, and  thy  remembrance  unto  all  generations." 
Having  rested  for  a  moment  on  this  radiant  summit 
of  faith,  he  again  descends  to  his  poor  condition  as 
mortal ;  where  he  is  comforted  again,  also,  in  the  as- 
surance that  God  hears  the  groaning  of  the  prisoner, 
and  does  not  despise  the  prayer  of  the  destitute.  Evi- 
dently the  weight  of  years  is  getting  to  be  heavy  upon 
him,  and  he  is  sitting  still  in  his  infirmity,  listening 
for  the  approach  of  swift-footed  Death  ;  for  he  says 
that  God  has  ''  weakened  his  strength  by  the  way." 
But  he  does  not  suffer  the  sense  of  his  feebleness,  and 


42G  SERMONS. 

his  knowledge  that  Death  is  at  the  door  to  overcome 
him.  He  rises  above  these,  and  all  else  that  pertains 
to  him  as  mortal,  and  glories  in  the  God  of  his  salva- 
tion, who  of  old  laid  the  foundation  of  the  earth,  and 
the  heavens  are  the  work  of  His  hands.  "  They  shall 
perish,  but  thou  shalt  endure ;  yea,  all  of  them  shall 
wax  old  like  a  garment :  as  a  vesture  shalt  thou 
change  them,  and  they  shall  be  changed  ;  but  thou 
art  the  same,  and  thy  years  shall  have  no  end."  The 
thouo'ht  that  God  is  unchano-eable  and  eternal  lifts 
him  out  of  the  consciousness  of  his  own  frailty ;  and 
he  has  hope  of  the  future,  and  of  the  whole  short-lived 
race  of  man,  for  the  reason  that  God  is  ever  the  same, 
—  saying,  "  The  children  of  thy  servants  shall  con- 
tinue, and  their  seed  shall  be  established  before  thee." 
Now,  dear  friends,  the  course  of  the  psalmist  is  a 
good  example  for  us  to  follow  to-day,  I  think,  if  any 
of  us,  as  some  of  us  naturally  must  be,  are  inclined  to 
associate  sad  thoughts  of  our  frailty,  and  loosening 
hold  upon  this  life,  with  the  outgoing  of  another  year. 
How  to  contemplate  the  rapid  flight  of  time  without 
fear,  disturbance  of  mind,  or  any  regret ;  how  to  spend 
a  serene  and  happy  old  age,  growing  more  peaceful 
and  joyous  in  soul  as  the  shadows  of  the  long  night 
fall  more  thickly  about  us,  —  is  a  question  which  wise 
men  have  discussed  ever  since  the  world  began. 
Christ,  our  great  Pattern,  has  not  taught  us  in  His 
life  how  we  are  to  live  in  our  declining  years.  He 
did  not  live  to  be  old.  He  was  an  infant,  a  chikl, 
a  youth,  but  never  an  aged  man :  His  life  ended 
during  the  2:)eriod  of  early  manhood.  One  of  the 
most  admired  treatises  we  have  on  old  age  was  writ- 
ten by  Cicero,  the  great  orator  and  moralist  of 
Rome.     He,  however,  had  only  the  light  of  nature  to 


THE  VICTORY  OVER  DEATH.  427 

guide  him  ;  and  while  he  describes  most  charmingly 
those  simple  rural  pursuits  which  become  the  aged,  he 
yet  misses  almost  wholly  those  higher  sources  of  joy 
and  peace  to  which  the  Bible  points  us.  This  com- 
fort in  God,  which  is  the  only  real  comfort,  and  which 
is  more  than  equal  to  all  our  needs,  gives  its  whole 
value  to  everything  that  can  be  said  on  the  subject ; 
and  it  is  to  that  that  I  would  now  direct  your 
thoughts  :  "  Thy  years  shall  have  no  end." 

There  was  a  period  in  all  our  lives  when  we  per- 
haps did  not  feel  our  need  of  the  contentment  of  mind 
which  these  words  are  fitted  to  give.  The  years  were 
not  short,  but  long  to  us,  often  tedious  and  irksome 
even,  when  we  were  children  and  youth.  Then  we 
wished  ourselves  older  than  we  were,  as  now  we  are 
tempted  to  wish  ourselves  younger  than  we  are.  How 
we  lono'ed  for  the  time  when  we  should  be  emanci- 
pated  from  the  restraints  of  childhood ;  when  we 
should  cease  to  be  under  tutors  and  governors ;  when 
the  cords  of  parental  authority  should  cease  to  hold  us 
back  and  guide  us  ;  when  we  should  be  free  to  choose 
our  friends,  our  occupation,  our  pleasures,  and  to 
enter  into  all  the  affairs  and  excitements  of  life !  It 
seemed  to  us  then  that  the  slow  years  would  never 
come  to  an  end  ;  that  our  wearisome  school  days  would 
never  be  over ;  that  the  apprenticeship  would  never 
give  way  to  the  profession,  the  business,  the  trade. 
How  long  it  seemed  to  us  that  we  waited  for  the 
Christmas  holidays,  the  summer  vacation,  the  party, 
the  visit,  the  promised  excursion  to  begin!  We 
counted  the  days,  and  the  hours  almost,  glad  to  note 
their  lessening  number,  as  we  looked  forward  with 
eager  and  impatient  hearts. 

But  now,  if  we  have   reached  the  meridian  of  life. 


428  SERMONS. 

if  we  have  climbed  to  the  summit  and  are  beginning 
to  look  down  the  declivity  on  the  other  side  ;  if  we 
are  not  toiling  up  toward  manhood  or  womanhood, 
but  beginning  to  step  down  toward  old  age  and  death, 
—  how  changed  our  impressions  of  the  lapse  of  time  ! 
It  is  not  slow,  but  swift.  The  wheels  do  not  seem  to 
be  off  its  chariot,  nor  does  it  drive  heavily.  It  is 
more  than  swift-footed  :  it  is  winged.  So  far  are  our 
years  from  having  no  end,  that  their  beginnings  and 
endings  are  nearly  all  we  can  remember  about  them. 
Only  a  few  prominent  events  or  experiences  appear 
to  us,  some  bright  and  sunny,  and  others  sombre  and 
frowning,  above  the  dense  mist  which  has  settled 
down  upon  our  retrospect.  Whether  we  are  joyful  or 
sad,  in  view  of  this  accelerated  speed  with  which  our 
years  fly  away,  we  must  admit  the  fact.  And  I  think 
that,  while  we  admit  it,  it  is  possible  for  us  also  to 
rejoice  in  it.     It  is  our  privilege  to  be  able  to  say,  — 

*'  Fly  swifter  round  ye  wheels  of  time, 
And  bring  the  welcome  day." 

To  him  who  has  remembered  his  Creator  in  the  days 
of  his  youth,  with  that  spirit  of  true  piety  which  the 
words  imply,  the  evil  days  do  not  come,  nor  the  years 
draw  nigh  in  which  he  finds  no  pleasure.  AVe  can 
watch  with  glad  and  peaceful  hearts  the  advance  of 
old  age.  We  can  say  with  joy.  We  spend  our  years  as 
a  tale  that  is  told."  If  our  lives  be  as  a  vapor  which 
appeareth  for  a  little  time  and  then  vanisheth  away ; 
if  they  are  like  the  swift  ships,  like  the  eagle  that 
hasteth  to  his  prey,  —  yet  this  fact  need  not  sadden  us, 
but  only  fill  us  with  a  peace  which  is  more  deep,  and 
with  a  hope  which  grows  brighter  and  brighter.  The 
near  prospect  of  death  had  nothing  gloomy  in  it  to 
St.  Paul's  mind  when  he  said  :  "  I  am  in  a  strait  be- 


THE  VICTORY   OVER   DEATH.  429 

twixt  two,  having  a  desire  to  depart,  and  to  be  with 
Christ  which  is  far  better ; "  when  he  said :  "I 
have  fought  a  good  fight,  I  have  finished  my  course, 
I  have  kept  the  faith ;  henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for 
me  a  crown  of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord,  tlie 
righteous  Judge,  shall  give  me  at  that  day."  It  was 
with  a  peace  past  understanding,  and  with  a  hope  full 
of  immortality,  that  aged  Simeon  in  the  Temple,  when 
he  had  taken  the  infant  Saviour  in  his  arms,  prayed 
that  he  might  depart.  The  desire  to  escape  from  life, 
for  the  reason  that  it  has  been  a  scene  of  bitter  disap- 
pointment and  trial,  is  not  commended  in  Scripture. 
Elijah,  saying  in  his  despondency,  "  It  is  enough, 
Lord ;  and  now,  I  pray  thee,  take  away  my  life,"  was 
rebuked  for  his  discontent.  God  gives  us  our  life ; 
and  we  should  cherish  it,  however  it  may  be  crowded 
with  infirmities  and  sorrows,  while  He  deals  it  out  to 
us.  Our  view  of  the  objects  of  this  earthly  discipline 
is  very  narrow  if  we  suppose  that  the  feeblest  and 
most  painful  life  cannot  be  a  rich  blessing.  We 
therefore  should  never  hate  our  lives,  or  be  weary  of 
them,  though  they  have  become  to  us  only  an  unmixed 
trial.  We  should  bravely  accept  them,  and  joyfully 
live  them  through  to  the  end  ;  and  we  should  meet 
death,  not  as  an  escape  from  the  e^dls  of  our  eartlily 
lot,  but  as  another  opportunity  whereby  we  may  glo- 
rify God.  That  which  prepares  us  for  the  approach  of 
death  is  the  same  which  fits  us  for  our  daily  life,  — 
the  full  and  joyous  consciousness,  namely,  that,  whether 
living  or  dying,  we  are  the  Lord's.  Old  age  was  not 
a  sombre  period  in  human  life  to  Bunyan's  thought, 
but  the  brightest  and  sweetest  stage  of  Cliristian  ex- 
perience ;  for  his  delightful  picture  of  the  Land  of 
Beulah  is  in  full  sight  of  the  dark  river,  —  the  place 


430  SERMONS. 

of  rest  and  heavenly  contemplation  which  comes  to  re- 
fresh the  pilgrims  after  their  hard  journey.  And  as 
their  last  days  were  their  best  days,  so  may  ours  be,  if 
we  have  their  faith  in  us. 

In  saying  that  it  is  the  consciousness  of  union  with 
God  in  Christ  Jesus  which  enables  the  aged  to  view 
the  rapid  flight  of  time  with  composure,  I  do  not  for- 
get the  many  circumstances  which  tend  to  make  us 
happy  and  peaceful  in  our  swiftly  declining  years. 

It  is  a  great  comfort  to  any  one,  when  he  has  reached 
the  time  of  life  in  which  he  finds  all  his  years  short 
and  hasty,  if  he  indeed  have  that  present  solace  which 
should  accompany  old  age,  "As  honor,  love,  obedi- 
ence, troops  of  friends."  It  lightens  the  weight  of 
years  upon  the  infirm  Christian  to  know  that  he  is 
not  wholly  a  burden  to  others ;  that  he  is  able  to  bear 
his  own  burden.  He  sees  behind  him  the  softening 
vistas  of  a  well-spent  life.  He  has  been  a  friend  to 
others,  has  stood  faithfully  and  honestly  in  his  lot,  has 
served  his  generation  as  God  gave  him  opportunity. 
Never  anxious  to  be  rich,  or  worrying  about  the  mor- 
row, he  has  laid  aside  enough  to  keep  him  from  any 
distressing  sense  of  dependence  on  his  fellow-men ; 
enough  to  repay  them  amply  for  all  the  service  he 
may  need  in  his  infirmity,  and  enough  to  make  glad 
the  hearts  of  the  widow  and  the  fatherless  who  may 
look  to  him  in  their  affliction.  Such  is  the  picture 
which  we  are  wont  to  paint  in  our  minds  of  the  old 
age  we  should  most  desire.  But  we  cannot  all  attain 
to  it.  Many  who  deserve  it  most,  so  far  as  we  can 
discern,  are  not  permitted  to  enjoy  it.  And  even 
those  who  do  achieve  it  are  not  blessed  by  it  as  they 
had  fondly  hoped.  Their  life  seems  calm  and  sweet 
to  those  who  only  look  on  it  or  anticipate  it.     But 


THE  VICTORY  OVER  DEATH.  431 

the  beauty  is  external.  It  does  not  enter  into  those 
hidden  depths  which  are  the  seat  of  true  pleasure  and 
pain.  Our  charming  idyl  turns  out  to  be  an  illusion. 
Amid  so  much  which  we  should  expect  to  give  peace 
of  mind,  happiness,  relief  from  all  anxious  care,  full 
and  sweet  content,  we  are  surprised  to  find  restless- 
ness, and  a  perpetual  going  about,  and  feeling  as  it 
were  in  the  dark,  as  though  the  soul  had  lost  some 
dear  support,  or  were  seeking  some  blessedness  which 
forever  eludes  it.  That  life  is  not  anchored.  It  can- 
not  say,  with  a  rejoicing  confidence  :  "  I  know  that  my 
Eedeemer  liveth."  "  This  night  thy  soul  shall  be  re- 
quired of  thee !  "  are  words  which  startle  it,  and  from 
which  it  shrinks  with  fear.  The  most  all  its  pleasant 
surroundings  can  do  for  it  is  to  mitigate  the  physical 
pain,  to  soothe  the  sense  of  weariness  a  little  :  it  needs 
some  nearer  and  surer  support,  in  order  that  it  may 
glory  in  its  infirmities. 

Another  refuge  to  which  men  often  betake  them- 
selves, hoping  to  escape  the  gloom  which  they  feel 
amid  their  swiftly  passing  years,  is  constant  occupa- 
tion. Beware  of  idleness,  especially  towards  the  close 
of  a  busy  life,  is  the  caution  of  worldly  prudence. 
Keep  your  mind  so  thoroughly  occupied  as  to  forget 
the  morrow ;  let  the  present  and  passing  hour  fill  your 
thoughts.  Not  a  few  persons  who  thought  themselves 
wise,  acting  upon  this  maxim,  have  tried  to  plan  their 
lives  accordingly.  They  reserved  for  their  declining 
years  some  congenial  undertaking,  which  they  hoped 
would  so  engross  them  as  to  make  them  indifferent  to 
the  approaches  of  age.  They  have  had  much  to  say 
about  the  duty  of  not  growing  old,  and  have  repeated 
the  assertion  that  they  never  felt  younger  or  enjoyed 
life  more,  in  a  way  which  betrayed  the  lurking  fear  of 


432  SERMOiXS. 

their  hearts.  But  this  is  not  the  way  of  the  Bible, 
dear  friends.  It  is  wholly  proper  and  wise  in  us  to 
provide  that  our  brain  and  hands  shall  have  pleasant 
occupation  up  to  the  very  hour  of  death,  if  this  be  in- 
deed possible.  But  in  a  great  many  instances  it  is  not 
possible ;  and  even  where  it  is,  why  should  it  be  used 
as  a  trick  to  make  us  insensible  of  our  swiftly  ap- 
proaching end?  No;  we  wish  to  face  the  King  of 
Terrors  and  see  him  disarmed.  It  is  cowardly  to  try 
to  hide  from  ourselves  the  real  case  in  which  we  are. 
We  do  not  want  the  courage  of  the  ostrich,  which 
endures  danger  by  hiding  its  head.  Yet  this  is  the 
courage,  and  the  only  courage,  which  a  great  many 
moralists,  having  no  faith  in  our  blessed  Saviour,  not 
only  preach,  but  try  to  practice.  The  future  is  all 
dark,  empty,  and  dreadful  to  them ;  and  hence,  when 
they  begin  to  grow  old,  they  busy  themselves  more 
than  ever  with  their  books,  their  pens,  their  scientific 
investigations,  their  travels,  —  openly  confessing  that 
they  hope  Death  will  overtake  them  before  they  are 
made  aware  of  his  approach.  Such  is  the  courage  of 
unbelievers.  They  know  of  no  victory  over  Death  but 
this.  Christ,  on  the  other  hand,  would  have  us  fully 
awake  to  the  coming  of  the  pale  messenger ;  would 
give  us  that  courage  which  dares  to  contemplate  him 
as  near,  and  which  welcomes  him  when  he  comes.  All 
mere  human  devices  are  dishonest ;  they  do  but  drug 
our  senses  to  the  awful  fact  of  mortality.  We  need 
that  in  us  which  shall  enable  us  to  look  on  Death  with 
unblanched  countenances.  It  is  when  the  touch  of  his 
cold  hand  does  not  terrify  us,  though  we  carefully  note 
the  chill  creeping  all  through  our  frame,  that  we  get 
the  true  victory  over  him.  Jesus  did  not  evade  the 
subject  of  His  own  death  in  talking  with  His  friends. 


THE   VICTORY   OVER   DEATH.  433 

Even  amid  the  sublime  glories  of  the  transfiguration, 
He  spoke  calmly  of  ''  His  decease  which  He  should  ac- 
complish at  Jerusalem."  It  is  a  beautiful  witness  to 
the  faith  in  God,  so  much  better  than  all  human  phi- 
losophy, which  cheered  the  souls  of  the  ancient  patri- 
archs, prophets,  and  kings,  that  they,  in  view  of  their 
own  death,  gathered  their  children  and  friends  about 
them,  and  discoursed  so  calmly  and  sweetl}-  of  their 
departure.  We  cannot  read  the  accounts  of  the  last 
days  of  Jacob,  of  Moses,  of  David,  without  feeling 
that  those  days  were  indeed  their  best  days.  A  holy 
radiance,  as  the  sun  setting  in  glory  after  a  season  of 
tempests,  invests  them.  It  is  worth  a  whole  life  of 
battle  to  be  able  to  bid  adieu  to  life  with  such  calm 
and  lofty  joy. 

Our  sense  of  the  rapid  flight  of  time  would  not 
sadden  us,  but  on  the  contrary  be  most  grateful  and 
cheering  to  our  hearts,  if  we  could  realize  that  our 
true  happiness  is  in  the  future  rather  than  in  the  past. 
This  is  one  secret  of  the  eagerness  of  childhood  and 
youth  to  grasp  what  is  before  them.  In  our  young- 
years  we  are  looking  forw^ard  to  something  in  this  life 
which  w^e  think  w^ill  increase  our  importance  and  make 
us  happier.  But  as  we  get  near  to  the  end  of  the  pres- 
ent life  we  do  not  extend  those  same  feelings  on  into 
the  heavenly  reahn.  The  grave  limits  our  natural  de- 
sire, and  WT  turn  back  from  its  mystery  and  silence  to 
live  over  a^'ain  our  sunnier  davs.  Thus  the  habit  of 
our  minds  becomes  wholly  changed :  instead  of  locat- 
ing our  joys  in  the  future,  as  we  once  did,  we  find 
them  all  in  the  ^^ast.  This  is  nature,  and  we  over- 
come it  only  by  that  faith  wdiich  is  the  gift  of  God. 
If  our  friends,  when  they  are  taken  away  by  death, 
might  go  from  us  as  Elijah  went  from  Elisha,  their 


434  SERMONS. 

departure  would,  perhaps,  build  a  golden  bridge  over 
the  dark  river,  across  which  our  hearts  would  follow 
with  yearning  desire  and  hope.  But  instead  of  the 
chariot  of  fire  and  the  glorious  translation,  turning 
our  thoughts  away  upward,  we  have  the  solemn  hearse 
and  funeral ;  and  our  poor  hearts  cling  to  the  green 
turf  and  white  tablets,  where  we  fancy  that  what  we 
so  loved  has  been  deposited  by  us.  Thus  do  all  the 
joys  and  hopes  of  our  lives  get  garnered  up,  and  laid 
away  in  the  past ;  and  the  future  is  vacant,  dark,  and 
dismal  to  our  view.  No  doubt  it  helped  the  faith  of 
the  apostles  greatly  to  see  their  Master  received  up 
into  heaven,  as  He  was,  from  the  top  of  Olivet.  That 
ascension  mightily  widened  the  sphere  of  their  hopes. 
They  saw  that  it  was  not  all  of  life  to  live.  Their 
expectation  at  once  sj^rang  forward  beyond  this  short 
life,  and  took  in  the  whole  unending  future  of  the  soul. 
The  resurrection  became  the  great  truth  on  which  they 
insisted  in  their  preaching.  Thenceforth  their  con- 
versation was  in  heaven,  whither  Christ  the  forerun- 
ner had  entered ;  and  they  longed  to  depart,  and  be 
with  Him  in  the  kingdom  which  He  was  preparing  for 
them.  If  we  could  always  have  that  apostolic  faith 
and  assurance,  dear  friends,  the  rapid  flight  of  time 
would  be  a  joy  to  us.  We  should  thank  God  that  we 
are  getting  where  the  pearly  gates  and  the  immortal 
towers  are  in  full  sight,  and  the  river  of  death  would 
be  to  us  "  an  insignificant  rill,"  which  we  should  be 
eager  to  cross  at  the  earliest  possible  hour.  But  our 
friends  do  not  go  in  the  sublime  manner  in  which 
Christ  went.  Their  departure  from  us,  one  after  an- 
other, tends  to  draw  our  affections  back  into  the  past, 
rather  than  make  them  leap  forward  into  the  future. 
Even  the  hope  of  heaven  is  not  always  able  to  recon- 


THE   VICTORY   OVER   DEATH.  435 

die  us  to  the  loss  of  earth.  Our  faith  wavers  and  is 
weak  in  the  growing  gloom.  The  hand  by  which  we 
hold  our  earthly  treasures  is  gTadually  relaxing  its 
grasp,  and  we  cannot,  with  our  other  hand,  get  any 
comforting  hold  upon  the  things  laid  up  for  us. 

There  is,  indeed,  but  one  sure  and  full  deliverance. 
Is  there  any  among  you  that  walketh  in  darkness,  and 
hath  no  light  ?  Let  him  trust  in  the  Lord,  and  stay 
himself  on  his  God.  From  all  our  philosophizing, 
from  all  our  devices  by  which  we  would  blind  our  eyes 
to  the  fleetness  of  our  years,  even  from  those  eternal 
joys  to  which  it  is  the  office  of  faith  to  bear  our  hearts 
forward,  we  are  called  back  to  Him  whose  dear  chil- 
dren we  are  ;  of  whose  nature  we  partake  ;  with  whose 
life  we  are  identified  ;  in  whom  we  move  and  have  our 
being,  —  the  mighty  God,  whose  years  shall  have  no 
end.  Is  Christ  our  Refuge  to-day?  Are  we  indeed 
one  with  Him,  grafted  into  Him  by  a  living  faith,  so 
that  the  life  which  is  in  Him  is  in  us  also  ?  Then  we 
may  turn  away  our  thoughts  from  all  gloomy  ques- 
tions, from  our  own  frailty,  and  brief  and  empty  lives, 
and  lose  ourselves  in  the  joyous  contemplation  of  His 
eternity,  His  unchangeableness.  His  ever-living  and 
life-giving  love.  "  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life," 
said  He,  as  He  stood  by  the  grave  of  Lazarus.  These 
words,  which  have  carried  hope  and  joy  to  millions  of 
sorrowing  hearts,  could  have  no  consolation  for  us  but 
for  the  blessed  fact  that  we  are  members  of  Christ's 
body.  This  mystical  oneness  with  Him,  into  which 
we  enter  when  we  believe  on  His  name,  is  our  warrant 
that  His  destiny  shall  be  ours ;  that  w^e  all  were  cruci- 
fied in  His  crucifixion,  and  died  in  His  death  ;  that  we 
have  been  raised  up  together  with  Him  into  heavenly 
places,  and  shall  die  no  more,  since  He  liveth  forever. 


436  SERMONS. 

"  Thy  years  shall  have  no  end  :  "  this  is  the  bright  and 
impenetrable  shield  with  which  we  turn  aside  every 
dart  which  death  aims  at  us.  The  Captain  of  our  sal- 
vation has  conquered  the  last  enemy.  He  is  so  won- 
derful in  His  working,  so  glorious  in  power,  so  change- 
less in  dominion,  and  we  are  so  entirely  committed 
into  His  hands  in  the  everlasting  covenant  sealed  with 
His  blood,  that,  while  we  think  upon  Him  and  ovn*  re- 
lations to  Him,  there  is  nothing  which  hath  power  to 
hurt  us.  All  things  are  ours,  —  death  as  well  as  life  ; 
the  past,  the  present,  and^  that  which  is  to  come. 
Every  fear  is  repelled,  and  every  gloomy  thought  flies 
away,  as  it  becomes  Christ  for  us  to  live,  and  Pie  is 
formed  within  us,  —  He,  the  Ancient  of  Days,  and  of 
everlasting  years. 

It  is  with  reference  to  two  great  enemies,  sin  and 
death,  that  the  Bible  calls  Christ  our  Conqueror.  Very 
naturally,  perhaps,  we  think  of  Him  chiefly  as  the 
great  Champion  who  conquers  sin  for  us.  Under  His 
leadership  we  overcome  the  world,  and  are  made  able 
to  live  holy  and  godly  lives.  He,  dwelling  within  us, 
gradually  displaces  our  indwelling  sin  ;  and,  as  His 
life  unfolds  in  ours,  we  are  changed  from  glory  to 
glory  till  at  length  we  are  filled  with  the  fullness  of 
God.  But  side  by  side  with  this  story  of  the  conquest 
of  sin  which  Christ  gains  for  us,  our  hearts  are  re- 
galed with  bright  views  of  the  complete  victory  over 
death  which  we  have  in  Him.  The  apostles  dwell 
quite  as  much  on  this  phase  of  Christ's  love  for  us  as 
on  the  other.  Indeed,  they  often  speak  of  sin  as  itself 
a  species  of  death ;  and  so  all  the  infinite  blessing, 
which  comes  to  us  through  faith  in  Christ,  is  summed 
up  in  the  one  victory  over  the  grave  which  we  have 
through   Him.     You  know  how  it  is  with  soldiers, 


THE  VICTORY  OVER   DEATH.  437 

when  some  great  general,  in  whom  they  have  perfect 
confidence,  takes  the  command  of  them.  They  cease 
to  think  of  the  power  and  number  of  their  enemies, 
or  of  their  own  weaknesses.  They  forget  themselves, 
and  what  may  be  before  them,  in  their  enthusiasm  for 
the  leader  who  was  never  known  to  fail ;  who  is  as 
sure  to  conquer  as  he  is  to  give  battle.  But  this  eager 
and  joyous  courage,  so  easy  for  us  to  understand,  is 
only  a  faint  image  of  that  which  may  fill  all  our  hearts 
when  we  have  indeed  accepted,  as  our  almighty  Leader, 
Him  who  is  "  the  Death  of  death,  and  hell's  Destruc- 
tion." The  thought  of  Him  as  our  Chamnion  who 
meets  death  for  us,  the  consciousness  of  His  abound- 
ing love  poured  free  as  the  sunshine  around  us,  crowds 
out  every  fear,  every  gloomy  apprehension  ;  and  we 
cannot  draw  back,  or  falter  in  the  way  by  which  He 
leads  us,  knowing  that  we  are  all  the  time  pressing  on 
into  a  fuller  knowledge  and  sweeter  enjoyment  of  the 
treasures  of  wisdom  and  blessedness  which  are  hid  in 
Him. 

Dear  friends,  where  we  have  been  wont  to  see 
death,  let  us  henceforth  see  nothing  but  Christ.  Let 
us  see,  not  our  own  weaknesses,  but  Christ  where  we 
once  saw  them.  Let  us  see  Christ  instead  of  our  sins, 
Christ  taking  the  place  of  every  doubt  and  fear,  Christ 
formed  within  us,  Christ  put  upon  us  the  hope  of 
glory,  Christ  in  the  room  of  all  that  terrifies  or  dis- 
turbs us,  —  Christ  the  conqueror  of  every  foe,  the 
healer  of  every  sorrow,  the  fulfillment  of  every  hope, 
our  joy  and  the  crown  of  our  rejoicing. 


THE   GOSPEL   OF   THE  WINDOWS.^ 

Blessed  is  the  man  whom  thou  choosest,  and  causest  to  approach 
unto  thee,  that  he  may  dwell  in  thy  courts  :  we  shall  be  satisfied  with 
the  goodness  of  thy  house,  even  of  thy  holy  temple.  —  Ps.  Ixv.  4. 

If  I  needed  any  warrant  for  speaking  to  you  of  the 
windows  in  our  church,  as  I  now  propose  to  do,  it  is 
ready  for  me  in  great  plenty,  throughout  the  Psalms 
of  David,  who  is  never  weary  of  writing  about  God's 
house,  praising  its  goodness,  and  picturing  to  us  the 
beauty  of  each  part  and  feature. 

I  know  nothing  of  the  special  thought  or  purpose 
which  the  artist  had  in  mind  when  he  designed  these 
windows.  I  shall  not  be  at  all  disturbed  if  I  fail  to 
get  his  point  of  view,  or  whatever  violence  I  do  to  his 
ideas ;  for  I  look  on  these  symbols  placed  about  me 
by  human  hands,  just  as  I  look  on  the  symbols  which 
God  has  placed  around  me  in  nature.  They  are  to 
me  a  language ;  and  they  utter  to  me  certain  great 
truths  respecting  God,  and  respecting  Christ  and  His 
salvation,  which  I  believe  the  Holy  Spirit  makes  me 
able  to  discern,  and  which  I  pray  that  He  may  com- 
municate to  your  hearts  while  I  am  speaking. 

1.  First  is  the  window  behind  the  audience,  in  the 
gable  toward  the  setting  sun ;  which  you  need  not  see 
to  understand,  for  its  meaning  lies  partly  in  the  fact 
that  it  is  behind  you.  It  represents  the  beginning  of 
the  kingdom  of  God  on  earth ;  His  revelation  of  His 
^  An  interpretation  of  the  Old  South  Church  windows. 


THE    GOSPEL    OF   THE   WINDOWS.         439 

love  and  saving  mercy  in  the  early  dawn  of  human 
history,  before  and  just  after  the  deluge,  in  the  times 
of  the  patriarchs,  and  while  His  people  were  led  by 
Moses  and  Aaron.  It  was  the  age  of  animal  worship 
in  the  lands  to  which  God  came;  and  He  revealed 
Himself,  to  those  whom  He  would  save,  through  the 
symbols  from  the  animal  world  which  they  used  in 
religious  worship.  Hence  the  cherubim.  These  were 
composite  figures  :  having  the  face  of  a  man  to  signify 
intelligence  and  wisdom  ;  the  face  of  a  lion  to  signify 
strength  and  majesty ;  the  face  of  an  ox  to  signify  pa- 
tience and  obedience  ;  the  face  of  an  eagle  to  signify 
far-sightedness  and  swiftness.  Now  these  four  faces 
are  given  in  our  window ;  and  thus  the  window  repre- 
sents that  whole  early  period  in  which  God  spoke  to 
men  chiefly  through  symbols.  Cherubim  were  placed 
at  the  entrance  to  the  Garden  of  Eden  to  keep  the 
way  of  the  tree  of  life.  Cherubim  were  placed  on 
the  ark  of  the  covenant,  guarding  the  shekinah  above 
the  mercy-seat.  Figures  of  cherubim  were  woven  into 
the  curtains  of  the  tabernacle ;  and  they  reappear  in 
the  temple  at  Jerusalem.  Ezekiel  saw  cherubim  in 
his  vision  by  the  river  Chebar.  And  John  in  Patmos, 
who  uses  the  Old  Testament  imagery,  speaks  of  them 
as  guarding  the  white  throne  in  heaven.  They  are 
spoken  of  in  certain  places  as  having  wings  full  of 
eyes ;  and  this  fact  the  artist  has  given  us  in  the 
window.  We  have,  therefore,  suggested  to  us  in  a 
single  picture  that  whole  early  period  through  which 
God  revealed  HimseK  to  men  in  the  language  of  S3^m- 
bols.  But  these  four  faces,  with  their  background  of 
wings  full  of  eyes,  are  placed  between  the  four  arms 
of  a  cross  in  the  window.  At  the  centre  of  the  cross, 
where  its  four  arms  meet,  can  be  seen  the  three  initial 


440  SERMONS, 

letters  which  teach  us  that  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Saviour 
of  men.  Around  this  centre  is  a  blazing  sun,  and  at 
the  extremity  of  each  arm  is  another  sun,  teaching  us 
that  Christ  is  the  light  of  the  world.  Yet  this  cross 
and  these  suns  are  but  dimly  disclosed ;  the  cross  is 
in  the  midst  of  the  cherubim,  whose  glory  overshadows 
it.  And  thus  we  are  taught  that  the  atonement  of 
Christ,  to  be  fully  revealed  at  a  future  day,  was  the 
underlying  fact  of  all  that  early  symbolism.  AVe  see 
it  but  dimly,  and  the  whole  window  has  a  somewhat 
confused  look,  thus  reminding  us  that  God's  first 
revelations  were  imperfect  sliadows  of  good  things  to 
come.  He  came  down  to  the  low  estate  of  men,  and 
made  known  His  saving  mercy  toward  them,  not  all 
at  once  but  gradually,  as  they  were  able  to  bear  it. 

2.  We  pass,  next,  from  the  period  of  partial  s^mi- 
bols  to  that  of  distinct  prophecy.  This  period  is  given 
us  in  the  figures  of  the  four  great  prophets, — Isaiah, 
Jeremiah,  Ezekiel,  and  Daniel,  —  in  the  wall  to  the 
left  of  the  organ  choir.  Their  words  cleared  up  to 
men  much  that  was  obscure  in  the  earlier  worship. 
The  prophets  denounced  sin  in  all  its  forms,  as  visible 
symbols  could  not  do ;  and  they  foretold  the  coming 
of  One  who  should  deliver  the  world  from  sin.  This 
was  especially  true  of  Isaiah,  whom  we  call  "  the 
evangelical  prophet ;  "  and  he  is  therefore  represented, 
in  the  window,  clasping  the  symbol  of  the  Lamb  of 
God  with  his  right  arm,  while  his  left  hand  is  uplifted 
to  entreat  attention.  The  burden  of  that  entreaty  is 
written  on  a  scroll  which  he  holds  up  to  view,  "  Hear, 
O  heavens,  and  give  ear,  O  earth,"  —  words  which 
may  be  found  in  the  first  chapter  of  his  prophecy,  at 
the  second  verse.  The  words  on  the  scroll  which 
Jeremiah  holds  are  the  following:    "And  the  Lord 


THE    GOSPEL    OF   THE   WINDOWS.  441 

said  unto  me,  Behold,  I  have  put  my  words  in  thy 
mouth ; "  which  occur  at  the  ninth  verse  in  the  first 
chapter  of  his  prophecy.  He,  too,  stands  with  up- 
lifted finger,  and  looks  off,  as  though  speaking  to  the 
whole  world,  warning  men  to  give  ear  to  the  divine 
messages  which  he  brings.  Next  we  have  Ezekiel, 
holding  with  both  hands  the  scroll,  on  which  are  writ- 
ten, from  the  eleventh  chapter,  fifth  verse  of  his  proph- 
ecy, the  words,  "  The  spirit  of  the  Lord  fell  upon  me, 
and  said  unto  me.  Speak."  He  grasps  these  words  as 
though  they  were  the  comfort  of  his  soul.  For  he 
was  naturally  timid  like  Moses,  and  found  courage  to 
go  and  speak  unto  Israel,  only  in  the  assurance  that 
God  was  with  him,  and  that  he  spoke  God's  words, 
not  his  own.  Last  in  this  series  of  windows  we  have 
Daniel ;  and  on  his  scroll  are  written  the  words  at  the 
sixteenth  verse  in  the  tenth  chapter  of  his  prophecy : 
"  Behold,  one  like  the  similitude  of  the  sons  of  men 
touched  my  lips."  The  incarnate  Christ,  that  is,  be- 
comes the  theme  of  his  prophecies.  He  has  visions 
which  are  in  many  respects  the  same  as  those  of  John 
in  Patmos;  and  he  foretells  with  wonderful  exact- 
ness the  glories  of  the  kingdom  which  is  to  be  ever- 
lasting-, and  to  which  the  dominion  under  the  whole 
heaven  shall  be  given.  Now  we  are  to  bear  in  mind 
that  these  four  figures  stand  for  all  prophecy,  just  as 
the  four  faces,  with  the  cross  under  and  among  them, 
stand  for  all  revelations  of  God  through  visible  sym- 
bols. In  earlier  times  God  spoke  to  men  chiefly 
through  material  forms,  addressed  to  the  eye.  But 
gradually  He  chose  articulate  speech,  addressed  to  the 
ear ;  and  this  language,  in  the  mouths  of  His  prophets, 
enabled  Him  to  utter  more  definitely  the  counsels  of 
His  love,  and  to  point  men  forward,  with  ready  and  ex- 


442  SEHMONS. 

pectant  hearts,  to  the  great  day  of  His  salvation  which 
should  rise  upon  them  in  the  coming  of  the  Messiah. 

3.  Accordingly  we  have,  to  represent  the  dawn  of 
this  great  day,  our  third  series  of  windows,  —  that 
behind  the  pulpit,  and  shedding  its  soft  beauty  over 
all  the  house,  —  which  pictures  to  us  the  birth  of 
Christ.  How  in  keeping  it  is  with  the  character  of 
the  event  which  it  celebrates !  its  colors  marvelously 
restful  to  the  eye,  and  holding  us  with  a  stronger  spell 
the  more  we  look  upon  them ;  even  as  there  are  no 
words  so  fitted  to  soothe  and  gladden  our  souls,  bless- 
ing us  more  the  more  we  study  them,  as  those  upon 
the  scroll  running  across  tlie  window,  and  let  down 
toward  us  by  angel  hands,  which  say,  "  Glory  to  God 
in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  goodwill  toward 
men."  We  are  helped  to  the  interpretation  of  this 
large  window  by  the  central  window  in  the  cluster 
above  it,  representing  to  us  the  infant  Saviour  in  the 
manger.  Around  this  centre  are  gathered,  in  the 
other  small  windows,  angels  with  various  musical 
instruments,  —  such  as  the  harp,  the  cymbal,  the  cor- 
net, and  the  organ,  —  praising  their  incarnate  King. 
And  at  the  two  lower  corners,  on  the  right  hand  and 
the  left,  are  the  two  Greek  letters.  Alpha  and  Omega ; 
and  around  them  faces  in  ruby,  proclaiming  that 
Christ  is  the  First  and  the  Last. 

Looking  now  at  the  great  window,  we  see  the  angels 
crowding  the  high  arches  of  heaven,  blowing  their 
trumpets,  covered  with  light,  pressing  downward  upon 
the  night  air,  their  faces  full  of  a  sweet  and  loving 
calm,  as  though  they  were  full  of  sympathy  for  a  lost 
world,  and  glad,  for  our  sake,  to  bring  to  us  the  good 
tidings  of  great  joy.  Beneath  them  is  the  dark-blue 
sky  of  an  Oriental  night.     The  stars  are  sliining.     A 


THE    GOSPEL    OF    THE   WINDOWS.  443 

crescent  moon,  on  the  right,  interprets  to  us  those 
words  of  John,  "  He  must  increase."  The  prophetic 
star,  which  the  wise  men  followed,  is  seen  above  the 
tower  of  Bethlehem.  And  the  white  dove,  flying  in 
the  midst  toward  the  left,  may  be  taken  as  a  symbol 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  poured  out  on  the  shepherds,  en- 
abling them  to  see  the  heavenly  vision.  These,  with 
their  flocks,  fill  the  lower  part  of  the  window.  Some 
of  them  have  fallen  on  their  knees,  and  the  flowers 
and  grass  and  shrubs  are  bright  about  them.  They 
are  clad  in  the  plain  garments  of  their  calling,  with 
their  shepherd's  crooks  and  wallets  and  pipes  and 
water-bottles.  And  their  faces  and  various  attitudes 
are  a  most  instructive  study.  The  least  excited  of 
them  all  is  a  boy,  a  truly  representative  figure,  un- 
awed  by  the  scene,  holding  his  lantern  behind  him, 
and  looking  on  with  a  child's  wonder  and  enjo^Tuent. 
The  flocks,  awakened  by  the  light,  seem  to  think  that 
morning  has  dawned,  and  are  conducting  themselves 
as  sheep  and  lambs  should  under  that  impression. 
The  shepherds  on  the  left  of  the  picture  seem  to  rep- 
resent that  class  of  men  who  gladly  welcomed  Christ, 
and  believed  on  Him  as  the  Saviour  of  their  souls ; 
for  there  is  a  look  of  faith,  of  hopes  fulfilled,  of  rev- 
erence, of  humility  and  consecration,  on  their  faces. 
But  on  the  right,  under  their  rude  shed,  we  see  harder 
faces,  and  eyes  with  a  cold  twinkle  in  them.  They 
have  a  doubting  look  in  their  astonishment ;  do  not 
seem  to  be  sweetly  entranced  like  the  others.  And  I 
cannot  help  fancjang  that  they  represent  to  us  those 
Jews  who  rejected  Christ  when  He  came,  as  the  others 
do  all  those  who  with  meekness  and  joy  receive  Him. 
Thus  has  this  window  spoken  to  me ;  yet  it  may  have 
spoken  differently  to  you,  —  something  else,  or  more, 


44-4  SERMONS. 

or  not  so  much ;  for  of  course  its  language  to  us,  in 
tliese  minutiae,  will  depend  on  the  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings with  which  we  study  it. 

4.  Continuing  on  now,  in  the  order  of  the  Bible 
which  we  have  thus  far  followed,  we  come  next  to 
the  four  small  windows  to  the  right  of  the  organ, 
which  represent  the  four  evangelists,  Matthew,  Mark, 
Luke,  and  John.  It  is  by  no  means  to  be  regretted 
that  they  happen  to  be  small ;  for  they  come  after 
Christ,  whose  greatness  belittles  all  things  else.  The 
four  prophets,  who  expound  to  us  the  symbols  of  the 
western  window,  may  be  made  large ;  for  their  words 
are  nobler  and  better  than  the  symbols  they  explain. 
But  the  evangelists,  who  record  the  events  of  the  divine 
mission  foreshadowed  in  this  eastern  window,  do  not 
add  anything  to  it.  They  are  represented  each  with 
a  pen,  and  with  a  book  in  which  he  writes,  thus  signi- 
fying that  it  was  their  office  simply  to  describe  the 
doings  and  take  down  the  sayings  of  Christ.  One  of 
the  evangelists,  John,  was  also  one  of  the  most  promi- 
nent of  the  apostles ;  and  we  have,  besides  his  Gospel 
and  visions  in  Patmos,  his  three  affectionate  letters  to 
the  churches.  As  the  four  prophets  represent  the  whole 
Old  Testament  Scriptures,  so  the  four  evangelists  rep- 
resent all  the  writers  of  the  New  Testament.  And 
thus  the  entire  circle  of  holy  Scripture  is  complete, 
without  bringing  in  the  two  transept- windows.  These, 
to  which  we  next  come,  have  their  distinct  office ; 
which  is  to  represent  to  us  more  particularly  the  his- 
tory of  Christ  and  of  His  church  in  the  world. 

5.  Turning,  therefore,  to  the  north  transept,  we  see 
Christ,  the  wonder-worker,  during  the  period  of  His 
incarnation.  The  cluster  of  small  windows  at  the  top 
gives   us,  in  the  centre,  the   symbol  of   the  atoning 


THE    GOSPEL    OF   THE   WINDOWS.  445 

Lamb.  Thus  we  have  the  key  to  the  whole,  —  God 
manifest  in  the  flesh  to  destroy  sin.  The  small  win- 
dows grouped  around  this  have  in  them  angels  bear- 
ing scrolls ;  and  on  the  scrolls  are  written  the  names 
of  the  cardinal  Clu-istian  graces,  —  love,  faith,  joy, 
goodness,  peace,  gentleness,  long-suffering.  They  are 
seven  in  number,  thus  signifying  completeness  of 
Christian  character.  The  face  of  each  angel  seems 
to  express  the  gracious  quality  whose  name  he  holds 
up.  These  seven  graces  were  all  conspicuous  in  our 
atoning  Saviour,  and  our  eye  instinctively  turns  from 
them  to  Him.  Beginning  on  the  left,  we  see  Him  in 
the  act  of  stilling  the  tempest.  What  majesty  there 
is  in  His  attitude,  in  His  countenance,  and  in  His  up- 
lifted hand,  as  He  speaks  the  sublime  words,  "  Peace, 
be  still !  "  He  is  the  Lord  of  nature,  whom  winds 
and  seas  obey  ;  and  a  divine  calm  fills  Him  amid 
the  storm  which  has  made  His  disciples  frantic  with 
terror.  Passing  on  from  this  scene,  we  next  see  Him 
in  the  house  of  Jairus,  the  ruler  of  the  synagogue. 
There  are  the  afflicted  father  and  mother,  and  the  dis- 
ciples whom  he  admitted  to  the  chamber  of  death. 
He  has  uttered  the  words,  "  Maid,  I  say  unto  thee, 
arise ; "  and  is  in  the  act  of  lifting  her  from  her  couch 
by  the  hand.  Again  we  see  Him,  in  the  next  scene, 
turnins:  the  water  into  wine.  And  after  that  we  behold 
Him  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  the  stone  rolled  away, 
and  he  that  had  been  dead  four  days  coming  forth. 
And  this  brings  us  to  the  last  and  greatest  miracle 
of  all.  His  own  resurrection  from  the  tomb.  We  see 
the  women  kneeling  at  the  empty  sepulchre,  and  the 
two  angels  above  them,  saying  unto  them,  "  He  is  not 
here,  He  is  risen."  The  lesson  of  this  window  is,  that 
Christ,  the  atoning  Lamb,  has  received  all  power  in 


446  SERMONS. 

heaven  and  on  earth.  He  has  the  keys  of  death  and 
hell ;  and  all  the  laws  and  forces  of  nature  are  sub- 
ject to  Him.  He  can  lay  down  His  life,  and  He  can 
take  it  again.  Having  humbled  Himself  and  become 
obedient  unto  the  death  of  the  cross,  he  is  highly  ex- 
alted ;  there  is  nothing  which  does  not  bow  to  Him 
and  confess  that  He  is  Lord.  He  is  proved  to  be  an 
all-sufficient  Saviour.  We  can  trust  Him  with  an  im- 
plicit faith.  Our  souls  are  forever  safe  in  His  keep- 
inof.  He  can  remove  our  sins  from  us ;  He  can  deliver 
us  from  the  evils  of  the  present  life  ;  He  can  raise  us 
from  the  dead,  and  present  us  faultless  before  His 
Father.  We  have  no  sorrows,  no  disappointments, 
no  griefs  or  bereavements,  in  which  we  may  not  go 
to  Him,  assured  that  He  is  able  to  comfort  us,  and 
knowing  that  He  will  comfort  us ;  for  how  shall  not 
He,  who  is  the  cross-bearing  Lamb  of  God,  be  ready 
to  exert  all  His  power  in  behalf  of  those  for  whom  He 
laid  down  His  life  ? 

6.  And  thus  we  come  to  the  window  in  the  south 
transept.  In  this  window,  representing  the  parables, 
Christ  does  not  appear.  You  know  He  said  to  His 
disciples,  it  was  expedient  for  them  that  He  should 
go  away,  in  order  that  the  Holy  Ghost  might  come 
upon  them.  Therefore  the  atoning  Lamb  vanishes 
out  of  sio-ht  when  His  wonderful  works  in  the  flesh 
are  complete,  and  the  quickening  and  sanctifying 
Spirit  takes  His  place  in  the  church.  We  see  that 
Spirit,  in  the  form  of  a  dove,  in  the  centre  of  the  clus- 
ter at  the  top  of  the  south  window.  He  is  descend- 
ing on  open  wings,  as  He  descended  at  the  time  of 
Pentecost.  Around  this  centre,  in  the  other  small 
windows,  we  see  written  the  names  of  the  seven  cai'- 
dinal  natural  virtues,  with  their  appropriate  symbols. 


THE   GOSPEL   OF   THE  WINDOWS.         447 

They  are  wisdom,  strength,  fear,  piety,  understanding, 
cunning,  counsel.  All  these  are  traits  of  the  natural 
man  at  his  best  estate.  And  it  is  the  Holy  Spirit  en- 
tering into  the  midst  of  these,  exalting  them,  purify- 
ing them,  and  harmonizing  them,  which  makes  the 
new  man  in  Christ  Jesus.  Thus  we  have  the  germ  of 
the  Christian  church  ;  and  that  church,  as  it  exists  in 
all  ages,  under  the  guidance  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  is 
represented  to  us  by  the  parables  in  the  large  window 
below.  First  we  see  the  strong  man,  full  of  youth 
and  hope,  going  forth  to  sow.  The  sun  is  just  rising 
upon  him.  The  birds  are  busy  by  the  wayside,  the 
thorns  and  the  stony  places  appear,  and  in  the  dis- 
tance we  see  a  field  of  ripened  grain.  Thus  does  the 
Christian  church,  being  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  sow 
broadcast  the  word  of  God,  —  from  its  pulpit,  in  its 
Sunday-school  and  homes,  and  wherever  through  its 
members  it  may  come  into  contact  with  men.  By 
such  means  it  is  that  the  lost  are  found  and  saved. 
And  hence  we  have,  next,  the  returning  prodigal. 
See  him.  He  has  come  from  the  far  country.  His 
face  is  toward  his  father's  house.  Penitence  and  sor- 
row bow  him  down.  He  is  weary  of  his  sins,  which 
filled  him  with  husks  and  clothed  him  in  rasfs.  The 
father  has  come  out  to  meet  him,  is  falling  on  his 
neck,  and  they  are  mingling  their  kisses  and  tears. 
O  happy  church  and  happy  pastor  whose  labors  are 
thus  blessed  I  who  do  not  toil  in  vain  for  the  souls 
about  them,  but  are  permitted  to  see  them  coming, 
confessing  that  they  have  sinned,  resolved  to  wander 
no  longer,  pleading  that  they  may  be  admitted  to  the 
humblest  place  in  God's  family.  The  church  is  full 
of  sympathy  for  all  the  unfortunate  and  wretched. 
And   hence   we   have  for   our    next   scene  the  good 


448  SERMONS. 

Samaritan.  It  is  our  office,  dear  brethren,  to  care  for 
those  for  whom  no  one  else  cares.  Only  a  faithless 
church,  out  of  which  the  Holy  Spirit  has  departed, 
passes  by  on  the  other  side  of  woe  and  suffering-  and 
want.  All  the  unsaved,  as  we  are  to  view  them,  liave 
fallen  among  thieves.  The  darts  of  the  Evil  One 
have  wounded  them,  and  their  own  transgressions  have 
brought  them  down  into  death.  We  are  to  lift  them 
up,  give  them  the  wine  of  God's  promises  to  drink,  pour 
the  oil  of  Christ's  love  into  their  wounds,  and  tenderly 
care  for  them,  till  they  shall  have  the  witness  in  their 
souls  that  they  are  healed.  And  now  we  begin  to 
draw  toward  death  and  the  judgment-day.  The  story 
of  the  ten  virgins  lifts  up  before  us  its  dread  lesson. 
There  is  to  be  a  separation.  See  them !  five  admitted 
to  the  feast,  with  joy  in  their  faces ;  five  excluded. 
What  grief  and  agony  and  despair  in  these,  who 
have  arrived  only  to  find  that  the  door  is  shut !  Is 
there  to  be  such  a  separation  in  this  congregation  ? 
in  these  homes,  these  circles  of  acquaintances  and 
friends  ?  Who  are  the  foolish  and  who  are  the  wise  ? 
The  Holy  Spirit,  coming  in  the  truth  and  the  church, 
has  spoken  to  us  all.  To  what  ones  of  our  number 
is  that  word  already  a  savor  of  life  unto  life,  and  to 
whom  shall  it  prove  a  savor  of  death  unto  death  ? 
But  the  last  word  of  Christ  to  us,  dear  friends,  is  a 
word  of  comfort,  of  encouragement,  of  hope.  Hence 
the  parable  of  the  laborers  in  the  vineyard.  They 
are  returning  in  the  evening,  and  the  husbandman  is 
giving  to  every  one  of  them  his  penny.  Yes,  there  is 
the  eleventh-hour  man ;  and  he  is  receiving  as  much 
as  they  who  have  borne  the  heat  and  burden  of  the 
day.  Christ,  that  is,  freely  and  gladly  saves  all  who 
enter  His  service.     Have  you  wasted  many  years  of 


THE   GOSPEL   OF   THE   WINDOWS.         449 

your  life  in  worldliness  and  sin?  Do  you  feel  that 
you  have  only  a  little  longer  to  stay  on  the  earth,  and 
that  the  remnant  of  your  days  is  not  worth  consecrat- 
ing to  Christ  ?  Nay,  dear  friends,  take  hope  from 
this  parable.  Go  ye  in ;  and  Christ  shall  save  you,  as 
He  saves  all  others.  It  is  never  too  late  till  the  door 
is  shut ;  never  too  late  till  the  night  has  come  ;  never 
too  late  till  the  husbandman  calls  the  laborers  to 
reckon  with  them.  But  of  that  hour  knoweth  no 
man ;  no,  not  even  the  angels  of  God.  Therefore 
stand  not  all  the  day  idle,  but  come  at  once  into 
Christ's  service  while  you  may.  "Now  is  the  ac- 
cepted time,"  says  this  last  word  in  the  story  of  re- 
deeming love  ;  and  all  these  windows,  as  you  look 
round  upon  them  and  study  the  meaning  of  their 
divine  messages,  bring  you  up  to  this  final  point, 
and  say  unto  you,  "  Behold,  to-day  is  the  day  of  sal- 
vation." 


THE  NATURAL  AND   THE  SPIRITUAL  BODY.^ 

For  we  know  that  if  our  earthly  house  of  this  tabernacle  were  dis- 
solved, we  have  a  building-  of  God,  a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eter- 
nal in  the  heavens.  — 2  CoR.  v.  1. 

"  The  Lord  is  risen  !  "  is  the  glad  shout  which  to-day 
flies  around  the  world  on  the  wings  of  the  morning. 
The  Jewish  calendar  assures  us  that  we  do  not  mistake 
the  time  of  our  Lord's  resurrection.  This  is  indeed 
the  true  anniversary  of  that  first  day  of  the  week  in 
whose  early  twilight  Mary  saw  the  sepulchre  empty 
and  the  two  angels  sitting,  one  at  the  head  and  the 
other  at  the  feet,  where  the  body  of  Jesus  had  lain. 
He  was  not  there,  but  had  risen  from  the  dead  in  a 
body  which  was  no  more  subject  to  death. 

At  this  point,  dear  friends,  the  resurrection  of 
Christ  connects  itself  with  our  own  resurrection  in  a 
most  wonderful  and  gladdening  way.  His  coming  up 
out  of  the  sepulchre  is  the  proof  that  we  shall  not  for- 
ever sleep  in  our  graves.  For  He  is  the  first-fruits  of 
them  that  slept,  and  His  resurrection  body  teUs  us 
what  ours  shall  be.  It  was  no  truer  of  Him  than  it 
is  to  be  of  us,  that  we,  as  St.  Paul  puts  the  case  in 
our  text,  shall  lay  aside  this  earthly  tabernacle  in 
which  we  now  are,  and  be  clothed  upon  with  the  house 
which  is  from  heaven.  How  often  we  try  to  conjec- 
ture what  the  nature  of  the  spiritual  body  is,  and  what 
kind  of  a  life  that  is  which  we  are  to  live  in  it !     The 

1  Preached  Easter,  April,  1879. 


THE   NATURAL   AND   SPIRITUAL   BODY,      451 

Bible  gives  us  a  great  many  hints  on  these  points,  sug- 
gestive of  a  blessedness  more  glorious  than  can  be 
explained  to  us  beforehand ;  and  of  all  those  hints, 
perhaps  none  contains  richer  food  for  thought  than 
the  scripture  before  us. 

Let  me  call  your  attention  a  little  to  this  figure,  in 
which  St.  Paul  likens  our  mortal  body  to  a  tabernacle 
and  our  spiritual  body  to  a  house,  that  we  may  enter 
into  the  glad  spirit  of  the  day,  and  join  our  voices 
with  the  ten  thousand  voices  of  field  and  forest  and 
sky  and  flood  which  in  this  spring-time  are  coming  out 
of  their  wintry  silence  and  praising  God. 

1.  Most  reassuring  to  us  is  it  to  notice,  first,  the 
clear  distinction  which  the  text  makes  between  us  and 
the  body  in  which  we  are  or  are  to  be.  It  does  not 
confound  us  either  with  the  earthly  tabernacle  or  the 
house  from  heaven.  Our  present  identity  does  not 
cease  when  the  tabernacle  dissolves ;  we  do  not  take  a 
new  personality  and  have  a  new  consciousness  when 
we  enter  into  the  house.  Our  real  self,  that  in  us 
which  says  /,  does  not  perish  but  lives  on,  forever 
knowing  itself  to  be  the  same  person  which  it  has  ever 
been,  whether  clothed  with  its  natural  or  its  spiritual 
body.  You  see  in  his  use  of  the  pronoun  "  we  "  how 
sharply  St.  Paul  distinguishes  between  every  man  and 
the  body  in  which  he  dwells.  The  body  may  change, 
but  the  man  is  the  same.  One  body  may  die  and  be  laid 
aside,  and  another  body  take  its  place,  but  the  indwell- 
ing man  lives  on  unconscious  of  decay.  We  are  dis- 
tinct from  our  bodies,  dear  friends,  as  the  letter  from 
its  envelope,  as  the  seed  from  its  husk,  as  the  light 
from  the  lantern  through  which  it  shines.  It  does  not 
make  you  another  person  to  move  out  of  a  tent  into  a 
house,  and  this  is  what  happens  when  you  exchange 


452  SERMONS. 

the  fleshly  for  the  spiritual  body.  You  are  still  you. 
You  have  the  same  consciousness  after  you  have  moved 
which  you  before  had.  You  say :  "  I  find  myself  dif- 
ferently situated,  furnished  with  better  organs  through 
which  to  act,  no  longer  in  a  tent  but  in  a  house^  but  I 
am  still  I."  Being  the  same  person  that  you  always 
were,  your  memory  and  all  your  other  faculties  do 
their  office.  You  may  increase  in  knowledge  and  wis- 
dom, and  in  your  love  of  serving  God,  but  it  will  all 
the  time  be  you,  not  something  else,  which  makes  this 
blessed  increase.  In  your  body  that  shall  be,  you  will 
not  forget,  any  more  than  in  your  body  which  now  is, 
nor  as  much.  The  spiritual  organs  through  which 
you  then  will  act  may  enable  you  to  recall  many  things 
which  your  poor  earthly  frame  has  left  you  to  forget. 
The  shepherd  boy  does  not  forget  his  past  life  when 
he  has  become  a  king,  nor  the  traveler  his  native  land 
and  its  interests  when  he  has  passed  to  the  other  side 
of  the  globe.  And  so  you,  being  still  the  same  per- 
son, will  associate  with  yourself  all  your  life  on  earth 
when  you  have  passed  out  of  the  earthly  into  the  heav- 
enly. You  will  then  know,  better  than  you  now  know, 
all  about  your  friendships,  your  relations,  your  achieve- 
ments, your  sorrows  and  struggles  in  life.  You  will 
need  there,  as  never  here,  a  sight  of  the  blood  which 
cleanses  from  sin,  that  assurance  of  forgiveness  which 
more  than  takes  all  the  sting  out  of  guilt,  a  firm  con- 
fidence that  only  good  can  come  to  those  who  love 
God.  Your  essential  needs  as  a  rational  and  immor- 
tal soul  will  be  the  same  in  eternity  as  in  time,  your 
dangers  and  exposures  to  sin  will  be  the  same ;  in 
Christ  alone  can  you  be  then  safe,  as  in  Him  alone 
you  are  now.  You  will  there  have  the  same  powers 
of  mind  as  here,  only  acting  through  a  better  organ- 


THE  NATURAL   AND  SPIRITUAL  BODY.    453 

ism,  as  a  house  is  better  than  a  tent ;  you  will  still  be 
the  same  person,  designated,  as  properly  as  you  ever 
were,  by  the  name  given  you  in  your  infancy. 

2.  Another  feature  of  the  heavenly  life  which 
blooms  out  from  this  text  is  the  continuance  there  of 
the  same  blessed  service  which  should  be  the  joy  of  all 
men  here.  The  holy  employment  to  which  our  Mas- 
ter has  called  us  on  earth  will  go  on  in  heaven,  only 
in  a  completer  and  nobler  way.  It  is  not  certain  that 
St.  Paul  had  the  ancient  tabernacle  and  temple  of  the 
Jews  in  mind  when  he  wrote,  yet  we  may  without  vio- 
lence give  his  words  that  reference.  He  has  told  us 
in  other  places  that  our  bodies  are  temples  of  God ; 
and  if  the  natural  body,  much  more  the  spiritual ;  and 
certainly  the  spiritual  exceeds  the  natural  in  glory 
and  beauty  as  much  as  the  temple  at  Jerusalem  did 
the  tabernacle  in  the  wilderness.  But  the  temple-ser- 
vice did  not  differ  essentially  from  the  tabernacle  ser- 
vice. Even  the  two  structures  were  not  unlike  in 
their  general  form  and  arrangement.  Solomon  did 
not  depart  from  the  patterns  of  things  given  to  Moses 
in  the  mount.  In  both  there  was  the  srreat  court  to- 
wards  the  sun-rising,  in  which  were  the  laver  and  the 
altar  of  burnt-sacrifices ;  in  both  was  the  holy  place, 
with  the  candlestick,  the  show-bread,  and  the  altar  of 
incense  ;  in  both  was  the  holy  of  holies,  containing 
the  ark  of  the  covenant,  into  which  the  high-priest 
entered  once  a  year.  The  sons  of  Aaron  and  the  Le- 
vi tes  ministered  in  the  tabernacle  just  as  in  the  temple. 
At  first  the  worship  was  comparatively  simple,  as  be- 
fitted the  condition  of  the  people  journeying  from 
Eg}^t  to  Canaan  ;  yet  it  was  not  another  worship, 
but  the  same,  more  elaborate  and  perfect,  which  was 
celebrated  in  the  temple.     The  tabernacle  decayed  and 


454  SERMONS. 

was  laid  aside,  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  filled  His 
house  on  Mount  Moriah ;  yet,  in  this  as  in  that,  were 
the  morning  and  evening  sacrifice,  the  solemn  as- 
semblies, the  rites,  the  services  of  thanksgiving  and 
blessing,  which  Moses  appointed.  So  with  us,  dear 
friends,  when  we  leave  our  tabernacle  and  enter  into 
our  house.  The  house  is  to  be  a  great  deal  more  glo- 
rious than  the  tabernacle.  Read  the  description  of 
Solomon's  Temple,  and  contrast  it  with  the  account  of 
the  tabernacle  set  up  in  the  wilderness,  if  you  would 
know  how  the  heavenly  body  is  to  excel  the  earthly. 
The  earthly  is  often  beautiful,  always  so  when  lighted 
up  by  a  pure  spirit  dwelling  within  it,  but  it  is  not 
the  house,  it  is  only  the  tabernacle.  It  is  God's 
handiwork,  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made ;  and 
though  it  is  but  a  desert  tent,  compared  to  the  house 
in  the  heavens,  yet  God  has  put  us  in  it  that  we  may 
do  here  the  same  service  which  will  be  our  blessed 
employment  there.  We  shall  be  the  same  beings, 
called  to  the  same  high  service,  in  the  heavenly  temple 
as  in  the  earthly  tabernacle.  It  is  clear,  then,  that 
the  making  of  our  future  heaven  must  be  largely  our 
own  work.  If  we  do  not  learn  to  take  delip:ht  in 
God's  service,  for  which  the  earthly  tabernacle  is 
given,  how  can  it  be  a  joy  to  us  when  we  have  received 
the  heavenly  house  ?  If  we  do  not  make  for  ourselves 
a  heaven  here,  what  right  have  we  to  expect  one  any- 
where ?  The  conditions  of  our  blessedness  can  never 
change.  Our  present  unhappiness  is  not  due  to  the 
earthly  body,  and  our  future  happiness  will  not  be  due 
to  the  heavenly  body.  It  is  upon  the  soul  within  the 
body  that  all  depends.  All  our  wretchedness  is  due  to 
our  dislike  of  God's  ways,  and  not  till  we  have  learned 
to  say,  "  How  amiable  are  thy  tabernacles,  O  Lord," 


THE   NATURAL   AND   SPIRITUAL   BODY.     455 

can  we  hope  for  blessedness  in  the  house  not  made 
with  hands.  The  tabernacle  and  temple  are  not  the 
same,  but  tliey  resemble  each  other.  Any  one  standing 
on  Mount  Moriah,  and  looking  at  the  temple  with  its 
goodly  stones  and  rich  curtains  and  golden  vessels 
and  ornaments,  would  have  been  reminded  of  the  tab- 
ernacle. And  so  the  spiritual  body,  though  not  the 
same  as  the  natural  body,  may  resemble  it ;  may  re- 
mind us  of  it,  though  unspeakably  more  radiant  and 
noble,  in  such  a  way  that  we  shall  know  in  heaven 
those  whom  we  have  known  on  earth,  friend  recogniz- 
ing friend,  and  kindred  their  kindred,  while  all  alike 
are  still  carrying  forward  that  blessed  work  of  God 
which  they  learned  to  love  here  below. 

3.  The  metaphor  which  St.  Paul  uses  in  our  text, 
again,  suggests  that  God  is  to  be  more  central  to  our 
thoughts,  and  our  worship  of  Him  more  fixed  and 
abiding,  in  heaven  than  on  earth.  The  temple  had  a 
centralizing  power  ;  it  unified  the  people  of  Israel  as 
the  tabernacle  could  not.  That  tabernacle  was  pitched 
now  here  and  now  there,  as  the  exigencies  of  the  na- 
tion required.  They  did  not  dwell  so  much  as  so- 
journ, while  they  lived  in  tents  and  worshiped  in 
"  the  tent  of  meeting."  Even  in  the  land  given  to 
their  fathers,  they  were  not  for  a  long  time  sure 
enough  of  their  ground  to  build  them  houses  to  dwell 
in.  The  whole  nation  of  Israel  were  unsettled,  migra- 
tory, staying  now  here  and  now  there,  while  the  taber- 
nacle lasted  and  so  long  as  they  dwelt  only  in  tents. 
And  what  was  true  of  that  nation  is  true  of  all  na- 
tions. And  what  is  true  of  whole  races  is  true  of 
families,  of  individuals.  To  live  in  tents  is  to  live  a 
moving,  roving,  shifting  life.  Nomadic  tribes  live  in 
tents.     The  tents  of  Kedar,  and  the  curtains  of  the 


456  SERMONS. 

land  of  Midian,  tell  us  wliat  were  the  habits  of  the 
people  in  those  countries.  Israel,  during  the  forty 
years  of  desert  life,  moving  from  one  camping-place  to 
another,  dwelt  in  tents.  The  house  is  the  sign  of 
rest,  of  a  fixed  abode.  When  David  had  rest  from  all 
his  enemies  round  about  him,  he  built  him  a  house  to 
dwell  in.  And  this  reminded  him  that  the  worship 
of  God  should  no  longer  be  in  a  tabernacle.  Why 
should  he  live  in  a  house  and  the  ark  of  God  be  still 
within  curtains  ?  He  lived  in  tents  before  he  came  to 
the  throne,  he  and  his  devoted  adherents,  while  Saul 
was  chasing  them  among  the  mountains ;  but  they  ex- 
chano'ed  their  tents  for  houses  as  soon  as  the  land  had 
rest  and  they  were  settled  down  to  peaceful  pursuits. 
The  tent  is  the  soldier's  shelter  while  he  is  on  his  cam- 
paigns. It  is  the  sign  of  struggle,  of  uncertainty,  of 
sudden  flights  and  marches,  and  movings  to  and  fro. 
It  speaks  of  a  mode  of  life  which  is  temporar}^,  abnor- 
mal, unsatisfying.  Now,  how  like  our  present  life  in 
the  flesh  all  this  is  !  In  this  earthly  tabernacle  we 
groan.  We  are  burdened  with  unsatisfied  desires. 
We  struggle  and  fight,  and  are  driven  about  by  fierce 
temptations.  We  have  no  rest.  It  is  a  life  of  toil 
and  conflict.  When  one  battle  ends,  another  begins  ; 
the  warfare  may  change  its  form  and  appearance,  but 
it  does  not  end.  There  are  foes  within  as  fierce  as 
any  without.  The  perfect  rest,  the  peace  with  no 
cloud  out  of  the  past  or  rising  in  the  future,  does 
not  come.  This  is  what  we  must  endure  in  one  way 
or  another  while  we  are  in  the  tabernacle.  But  the 
house  in  the  heavens,  the  spiritual  body,  tells  us  an- 
other lesson.  When  we  pass  into  that  our  rest  comes. 
We  are  of  the  church  triumphant,  no  more  of  the 
church  militant.     The  two  hosts  are  but  one,  and  all 


THE  NATURAL   AND   SPIRITUAL   BODY.     457 

their  service  is  essentially  one  service  of  God,  yet  how 
different  that  life  from  this !  how  vastly  more  full, 
satisfying,  unchanging !  as  much  greater  and  more 
blessed  than  this  as  your  houses  are  better  than  the 
soldier's  tent,  as  the  costly  Temple  of  Solomon  was 
better  than  the  tabernacle  in  the  wilderness !  There 
you  will  not  be  tossed  up  and  down,  will  not  be  led 
astray  by  temptation,  will  not  be  driven  to  and  fro  by 
the  hosts  of  evil.  You  will  have  found  your  fixed 
abode,  you  will  rove  no  more,  you  will  abide  in  God, 
and  His  words  will  abide  in  you.  All  your  life  through 
those  eternal  ages  will  be  like  the  flow  of  a  river 
which  has  come  out  of  its  mad  conflict  with  rocks  and 
cliffs  and  headlands,  and  which  moves  on  majestic, 
peaceful,  and  free  through  the  bright  plains.  That  life 
in  the  spiritual  body  flows,  forever  flows  ;  yet  it  is 
ever  finding  its  rest  in  Christ,  as  the  river  is  at  rest 
in  the  sea.  So  blessed,  so  great,  so  satisfying  and 
unchanging  is  the  life  on  which  St.  Paul  looked  when 
he  said,  "  We  know  that  if  our  earthly  house  of  this 
tabernacle  were  dissolved,  we  have  a  building  of  God, 
a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens." 
4.  These  words  of  the  apostle  remind  us,  fourthly, 
that  the  idea  of  home  which  we  all  have  and  vainly 
seek  to  realize  on  earth  will  be  fully  and  blessedly 
realized  in  heaven.  Our  life  in  the  spiritual  body  will 
bring  us  to  the  realization  of  all  our  ideals.  We  have 
ideals  of  a  perfect  state  of  society,  of  a  perfect  church 
and  family,  of  peace,  of  purity,  of  beauty,  of  order, 
of  goodness,  which  in  this  life  are  all  the  time  hover- 
ing before  us.  We  reach  out  after  them,  and  yearn 
to  see  them  becoming  real  in  us  and  in  the  world,  but 
we  cannot  grasp  them ;  they  are  within  the  realm  of 
the  unattained.     So  the  word  ''  home  "  suggests  to  us 


458  SERMONS. 

something  which  our  best  earthly  homes  have  not  yet 
fully  realized.  The  perfect  home  after  which  .our 
hearts  reach  out  and  yearn  is  yet  to  come.  We  are 
strangers,  sojourners,  pilgrims ;  we  are  traveling  to- 
wards our  native  country.  There  is  a  constant  home- 
sickness within  us,  and  that  for  which  we  most  deeply 
sigh  is  not  behind  us,  but  always  before  us.  Though 
we  may  regret  the  joys  of  other  days,  or  are  saddened 
to  find  ourselves  growing  old,  yet  that  which  is  deep- 
est in  us  is  all  the  time  reaching  forward ;  the  home 
which  shall  satisfy  us  is  yet  to  come;  will  not  be 
reached  till  we  have  entered  the  spiritual  body.  How 
befitting  to  all  this  is  the  imagery  of  our  text !  It  is 
our  tent-life  which  we  are  now  living.  We  journey 
on  towards  the  "  Home,  sweet  home,"  for  which  our 
hearts  hunger.  When  we  lie  down  at  night,  it  is  our 
sweetest  thought  of  the  day  just  gone  that  we  have 
"  pitched  our  tents  a  day's  march  nearer  home."  We 
do  not  reach  it,  but  only  go  towards  it,  moving  the 
tabernacle  with  us.  Though  we  build  us  great  houses, 
and  fill  them  with  pleasant  things,  or  though  we  live 
in  ancestral  mansions  in  the  midst  of  ancient  parks 
and  gardens,  they  do  but  foreshadow  to  us  our  real 
homes ;  they  belong  to  our  tabernacle  life,  and  point 
on  to  the  house  not  made  with  hands.  How  true  this 
is  may  be  seen  in  the  multitude  of  hymns  and  poems 
of  which  it  is  the  theme.  That  we  are  absent  from 
our  true  homes  in  these  fleshly  bodies,  and  find  them 
only  as  we  pass  into  the  body  which  is  spiritual,  is  a 
truth  so  native  to  our  minds,  and  so  mingled  with  all 
our  pleasant  and  poetic  dreams,  that  one  can  hardly 
speak  of  it  without  seeming  to  sink  into  mere  senti- 
ment and  cant.  But  men  cannot  let  this  subject  alone. 
Though  they  are  silent  about  it,  their  thoughts  will  at 


THE  NATURAL  AND   SPIRITUAL  BODY.    459 

times  be  busied  with  it.  They  may  make  many  wild 
and  even  puerile  conjectures  about  the  employments 
of  heaven,  what  the  resurrection  really  is,  when  it 
takes  i^lace,  what  is  the  nature  of  the  spiritual  body, 
where  heaven  is,  or  whether  it  is  anywhere  in  partic- 
idar ;  but  they  will  g'o  on  doing  this,  however  reason 
may  seem  to  convict  them  of  its  folly,  driven  to  it  by 
that  inward  yearning  for  the  ideal  home  which  is  an 
essential  part  of  every  man's  nature.  No  truer  or 
safer  words  concerning  that  home  were  ever  spoken 
than  those  of  our  text.  It  is  a  house.  Here  we  have 
but  tents,  tabernacles.  This  is  not  the  soul's  home. 
We  need  here  something  which  we  can  take  along 
with  us  on  the  road,  which  can  be  easily  set  up  or 
folded  together,  which  we  can  each  day  pitch  farther 
forwards ;  but  we  shall  lay  it  aside  when  the  bright 
doors  of  our  eternal  homes  have  been  shut  behind  us, 
when  we  have  passed  into  the  house  with  which  we 
are  to  be  clothed  upon  from  heaven. 

5.  The  frailty  of  the  bodies  we  now  have,  and 
the  enduring  vigor  and  strength  of  those  in  which  we 
shall  be,  is  also  vividly  suggested  to  us  by  the  im- 
agery of  the  text.  No  tent  or  tabernacle  which  is  in 
constant  use  can  last  a  great  while,  but  there  are 
houses  and  temples  still  standing  which  were  built  in 
the  days  of  the  patriarchs.  But  not  even  houses  of 
stone,  such  as  men  build,  can  adequately  prefigure  the 
lasting  beauty  and  freshness  of  the  spiritual  body. 
We  fall  short  in  describing  that  house,  as  in  describ- 
ing the  heavenly  city,  though  we  call  to  our  aid  the 
most  costly  and  imperishable  things  of  this  world,  all 
manner  of  precious  stones,  the  jasper,  sapphire, 
chalcedony,  and  emerald,  the  sardonyx,  sardius,  chry- 
solite, and  beryl,  the  topaz,  the  chrysoprasus,  the  ja- 


460  SERMONS. 

cinth,  and  tlie  amethyst,  the  transparent  glass,  the  sil- 
ver, the  gold,  and  the  pearl.  Our  imagination  lays 
hold  of  these,  yet  they  all  but  dimly  foreshadow  what 
the  house  from  heaven  is.  St.  Paul  heightens  our 
conception  of  it  by  the  contrast  which  he  uses.  Not 
only  is  that  the  house  and  this  the  tabernacle,  but  this 
is  earthly,  while  that  is  heavenly  and  is  the  building 
of  God.  The  body  in  which  we  now  are  was  taken 
out  of  the  ground,  and  shall  return  to  it,  but  that  in 
which  we  shall  be  is  of  nobler  substance.  God  makes 
it,  and  clothes  the  spirit  which  is  freed  from  earth 
with  it,  so  that  it  is  called  His  building.  And  not 
only  that,  but  it  is  eternal :  no  earthly  mixture  in  it, 
but  purely  of  celestial  substance,  the  building  of  God, 
the  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens. 
We  are  now  bearing  the  image  of  the  earthly,  but  we 
must  also  bear  the  image  of  the  heavenly.  After  that 
which  is  natural  will  come  that  which  is  spiritual. 
"VVe  have  been  sown  in  corruption,  but  must  be  raised 
in  incorruption ;  in  weakness,  but  must  be  raised  in 
power ;  we  have  been  sown  in  dishonor,  but  must  be 
raised  in  glory.  It  is  not  we  but  our  dwelling  that 
changes.  The  earthly  tabernacle  which  is  flesh  and 
blood  cannot  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God.  It  must 
be  laid  aside,  changed  for  the  house  which  is  eternal, 
if  not  by  the  slower  processes  of  nature,  then  in  a  mo- 
ment, in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  when  the  trumpet 
shall  sound. 

Just  where  it  is,  or  how  it  is,  that  this  glorious  trans- 
formation takes  place,  I  do  not  undertake  to  say.  I 
only  know  that  the  spiritual  body  which  is  eternal  is 
God's  building.  Whether  it  is  in  us  now,  to  be  set 
free  at  death,  or  is  kept  on  high  for  us,  to  be  given  us 
when  we  quit  this  pilgrim's  tent,  I  know  not,  though 


THE  NATURAL   AND   SPIRITUAL   BODY.     461 

the  words  of  Scripture  seem  to  me  rather  to  favor 
this  latter  impression.  It  is  not  easy  for  me  to  think 
of  the  spiritual  body  as  now  within  the  natural,  but 
as  prepared  and  waiting  for  us  in  the  heavens.^  Do 
not  our  Lord's  words  favor  this  impression  where  He 
says,  "  Make  to  yourselves  friends  .  .  .  who,  when  your 
earthly  tabernacles  fail,  shall  receive  you  into  ever- 
lasting habitations."  Nor  can  I  feel  that  the  frail 
earthly  body,  which  we  tenderly  place  within  the 
"  low  green  tent "  when  it  falls  away  from  the  soul, 
wholly  perishes.  I  cannot  say,  with  one  of  our  best 
poets,  that  the  curtain  of  that  low  tent  "never  out- 
ward turns."  The  sacred  instinct  within  us,  which 
leads  us  to  guard  and  adorn  our  cemeteries,  seems  to 
me  to  speak  of  a  resurrection  morning  when  the  graves 
shall  be  opened,  and  they  that  sleep  shall  come  forth. 
We  may  all  miss  the  exact  truth  as  to  the  resurrection 
of  the  body.  I  only  know  that  our  faith  has  some 
kernel  of  beauty  and  glory  in  it ;  that  not  less  won- 
derfully, but  more  wonderfully  than  we  dream,  all 
which  the  Bible  says  of  our  presr  vi;  bodies  and  their 
resurrection  from  the  dead  shall  be  fulfilled.  Yet  I 
have  an  equally  strong  faith  that,  as  our  ancient  con- 
fessions say,  "  the  souls  of  the  righteous  do  at  death 
immediately  pass  into  glory."  I  cannot  believe  that 
they  are  lingering  somewhere  between  the  tabernacle 
and  the  house ;  I  must  think  of  them  as  already  in 
the  building  of  God  which  is  eternal  in  the  heavens. 
They  are  the  same  persons  now  which  they  were  while 
they  tabernacled  with  us,  and  their  worship  and  ser- 
vice of  God  are  essentially  the  same.  They  are  now 
singing,  only  in  louder  and  sweeter  strains,  the  hymns 

1  Thou  sowest  not  that  body  that  shall  be,  but  God  giveth  a  body- 
as  it  hath  pleased  Him. 


462  SERMONS. 

of  praise  to  the  Lamb  in  whicli  we  join.  Our  strong 
helpers,  our  friends,  the  loved  and  venerated,  our  chil- 
dren full  of  budding  promise,  who  have  fallen  on  the 
way  as  we  all  must  fall,  who  were  called  at  midnight, 
and 

"  whose  tent  at  sunrise  on  the  ground 
A  darkened  ruin  lay, ' ' 

have  entered  into  the  full  enjoyment  of  the  ideal 
home.  The  glad  Easter  morning  which  the  bursting 
flowers  welcome,  the  stir  and  murmur  of  the  fields  and 
streams,  the  many-throated  song  within  the  deepening 
veil  of  the  woods,  combine  with  the  blessed  word  of 
God  and  our  sacred  heart-hunger  to  assure  us  that  it 
is  well  with  the  good  whom  we  miss  from  their  places 
to-day,  and  that  our  own  walk  with  Christ  is  taking 
us  on  out  of  the  imperfect  towards  the  perfect.  To 
the  tabernacle  succeeds  the  house.  At  the  end  of 
the  pilgrimage  we  pass  into  the  eternal  home.  "  And 
there  shall  be  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow  nor  cry- 
ing, neither  shall  there  be  any  more  pain." 
«ec3 


CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS,  AND  THE  SOCIAL 
IDEAL.i 

And  I  saw  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth :  for  the  first  heaven 
and  the  first  earth  were  passed  away ;  and  there  was  no  more  sea.  — 
Rev.  xxi.  1. 

No  man  has  ever  yet  doubted  that  some  such  bless- 
edness as  these  words  foreteU  is  in  store  for  our 
world.  It  is  one  of  the  sacred  beliefs  of  the  human 
heart,  that  the  scattered  races  of  mankind  shall  be  one 
day  brought  together  into  a  single  family.  This  faith 
is  intuitional ;  it  is  born  with  us,  like  the  faith  in  our 
own  immortality,  or  in  the  existence  and  omnipresence 
of  a  God  of  love.  Before  the  light  of  the  gospel  had 
dawned  on  men,  poets  sang  of  the  golden  age  to  come, 
and  philosophers  tried  to  tell  what  it  should  be  or  be 
like.  It  is  one  of  the  chief  themes  of  prophecy  in  the 
Old  Testament  as  well  as  in  the  New.  The  whole 
Bible,  but  perhaps  more  especially  the  last  book  of  it, 
is  a  divine  Amen  to  our  instinctive  faith  in  the  broth- 
erhood of  mankind.  Through  all  literature,  whether 
ancient  or  modern,  through  all  thinking,  through  all 
statesmanship,  all  business,  all  life,  this  sacred  yearn- 
ing is  breathed  ;  and  while  the  universal  voice  is  going 
up,  saying,  "  How  long,  O  Lord,  how  long  !  "  the  re- 
sponse of  God  is  clear,  full,  unmistakable.  That  be- 
lief in  the  future  perfection  of  man  and  of  human 
society,  which  cannot  be  uprooted  in  our  hearts,  does 

^  Preached  before  the  American  Board  of  Commissioners  for  For- 
eign Missions,  October  5, 1880. 


464  SERMONS. 

not  deceive  us.  The  glorious  clay  to  which  it  turns 
forward  our  wistful  eyes  is  surely  coming,  coming, 
coming  !  God  keeps  the  times  and  seasons  in  His  own 
power.  One  day  is  with  Him  as  a  thousand  years, 
and  a  thousand  years  as  one  day.  But  His  servant 
John,  whom  He  inspired  to  show  unto  us  what  should 
be  in  the  end  of  the  world,  says  :  "  I  saw  a  new  heaven 
and  a  new  earth :  for  the  first  heaven  and  the  first 
earth  were  passed  away ;  and  there  was  no  more  sea." 

By  "  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth "  we  are  to 
understand  the  whole  race  of  mankind,  morally  and 
spiritually  renewed.  The  passing  away  of  "  the  first 
heaven  and  the  first  earth  "  signifies  that  the  present 
divided  and  hostile  condition  of  the  races  of  men  shall 
give  way  to  a  universal  reign  of  peace  and  goodwill. 
And  in  the  striking  picture  of  a  world  in  which  there 
is  "  no  more  sea  "  is  assured  to  us  the  mastery  of  all 
natural  forces  as  well  as  all  moral  and  spiritual,  so 
that  mankind  shall  no  more  be  kept  from  coming  to- 
gether into  that  brotherhood  of  love  in  which  they 
cannot  but  believe,  and  for  which  they  instinctively 
yearn. 

The  sea  offered  only  images  of  terror  to  the  mind 
of  those  to  whom  St.  John  wrote.  It  bounded  the 
known  world.  They  peopled  with  direful  fancies  the 
regions  which  lay  beyond  its  distant  rim.  Meaning 
by  the  word  "  sea  "  the  Mediterranean,  with  which 
they  were  chiefly  conversant,  it  would  suggest  to  them 
ideas  of  distance  and  separation ;  long  and  perilous 
voyages,  which  would  not  bring  them  to  friends,  but 
to  savage  and  hostile  tribes. 

No  doubt  all  these  ideas  were  in  the  mind  of  the 
rapt  seer  when  he  used  his  beautiful  image.  He  is 
carried  forward  by  the  Spirit  of  God  into  the  time 


CHRISTIAN  MISSIOAS.  465 

when  Christ  shall  be  the  universal  King.  It  is  the 
glory  and  blessedness  of  that  day  which  his  vivid  fig- 
ure paints.  He  means  to  say  that  a  time  is  coming, 
in  the  history  of  our  world,  when  the  dominion  of 
man  over  nature  shall  be  complete,  the  sea  even  not 
blocking  the  pathways  of  his  love ;  when  he  shall  re- 
gard no  place  as  the  abode  of  mystery  or  danger ;  and 
when  that  separation,  difficulty  of  access,  and  hostility 
which  now  divide  the  nations  from  one  another,  and 
of  which  the  sea  is  a  striking  symbol,  shall  give  place 
to  an  easy,  brotherly,  and  uniformly  delightful  inter- 
course among  all  the  inhabitants  of  our  globe. 

The  march  of  the  human  family  toward  this  blessed 
state  began  in  the  da\vn  of  history  and  is  still  going 
forward.  Let  me  speak  to  you  a  little  of  the  means 
b}^  which  the  great  renovation  is  to  come  about :  first, 
of  some  of  the  natural  and  human  means ;  secondly, 
of  the  supernatural,  as  seen  in  the  gospel,  or  more 
especially  in  the  work  of  Christian  missions. 

One  of  the  first  class  of  means,  which  has  done 
much  and  may  yet  do  something  toward  bringing  our 
race  together  into  a  brotherhood  of  love,  is  geographi- 
cal discovery.  Man's  knowledge  of  the  new  world  he 
had  been  bidden  to  subdue  and  have  dominion  over 
was  for  a  long  time  partial  and  vague.  Each  knew 
his  own  neighborhood,  but  there  was  no  common 
knowledge  shared  by  all.  As  men  scattered  abroad 
after  the  confusion  of  tongues,  they  did  not  send  back 
reports  of  themselves,  and  early  traditions  grew  dim ; 
hence  in  a  few  centuries  the  Old  World  was  peopled 
with  tribes  who  knew  almost  nothing  of  one  another. 
But  in  due  time  journeys,  and  even  voyages,  of  dis- 
covery began  to  be  made.  Adventurous  men  went 
forth  to  search  out  the  lands,  and  they  returned  to 


466  SERMONS. 

tell  what  they  had  found.  Thus  the  small  circle  of 
geography,  which  had  been  each  man's  world,  began 
to  be  widened.  The  dwellers  in  Egypt,  Syria,  and 
Midi  an  heard  that  they  were  neighbors  to  one  an- 
other ;  and  they  sought  intercourse,  though  chiefly  for 
plunder  and  blood.  The  islands  of  the  sea,  also,  and 
the  remotest  parts  of  the  continents,  were  brought 
gradually  within  the  circle  of  this  common  knowledge. 
Thus  that  vagueness  and  fear  which  had  been  con- 
nected with  the  idea  of  distance  began  to  yield  to  a 
pleasant  curiosity  and  the  feeling  of  society.  The 
shepherd  of  Mesopotamia  felt  less  alone  at  knowing 
that  other  hearts,  precisely  like  his  own,  were  beat- 
ing far  up  the  Nile,  on  the  table-lands  of  China, 
throughout  the  wilds  of  Europe,  and  on  the  bosom  of 
that  great  deep  whose  terrible  majesty  filled  him  with 
awe.  But  vastly  more  toward  bringing  the  earth's 
surface  to  the  knowledge  of  all  men  has  been  done  in 
modern  times.  Columbus  and  his  successors  robbed 
the  sea  of  its  mystery.  The  exact  form  and  size  of 
the  earth  have  been  found  out.  Not  an  islet  glitters 
on  the  surface  of  the  blue  waters  but  some  one  has 
seen  and  reported  it.  Wherever  man  can  live,  this 
work  of  discovery  has  been  done  ;  and  now,  in  the 
central  parts  of  Africa,  and  toward  the  northern  and 
the  southern  pole,  the  work  is  going  on,  sure  not  to 
stop  till  the  last  corner,  and  shore,  and  height,  and 
fastness  of  the  earth  have  been  forced  to  give  up  their 
secrets.  This  genius  of  discovery  ranges  the  earth  as 
the  astronomer's  glass  sweeps  the  heavens.  It  is  rap- 
idly filling  up  the  blanks  on  our  maps.  It  is  giving 
to  all  parts  of  the  world  a  reality  and  nearness  in  our 
thoughts,  which  tend  to  take  from  man  everywhere  his 
sense  of  loneliness  or  isolation. 


CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS.  467 

Another  natural  means  of  bringing  men  together 
into  fraternal  relations  has  been  the  establishment  of 
colonies.  This  adds  a  tie  which  mere  discovery  could 
not  give ;  the  attachment,  namely,  to  a  common  an- 
cestry. Though  every  man  is  our  brother,  and  in  the 
broadest  sense  we  cannot  speak  of  dijfferent  ancestors, 
yet  there  is  a  peculiar  interest  binding  together  those 
who  think  of  the  same  country  as  their  fatherland,  or 
who  are  alike  warmed  with  the  blood  of  some  heroic 
stock  whose  origin  and  fame  they  can  distinctly  trace. 
The  Phoenician  colonies,  along  the  southern  shore  of 
the  Mediterranean,  were  drawn  to  one  another  as  the 
native  tribes  could  not  be  ;  for,  with  a  common  affec- 
tion, they  remembered  the  mother  city.  So  when  that 
migration  southward*  from  the  northern  border  of 
Greece  began,  and  the  isthmus  below  Corinth  and 
the  islands  near  its  coast  were  settled  by  people  claim- 
ing a  common  lineage,  the  new  cities  entered  into  fra- 
ternal alliances  more  or  less  wide,  before  which  the 
first  owners  of  the  soil  melted  away.  And  this  broth- 
erhood of  states  went  on  increasing  for  a  long  time, 
gaining  for  itself  footholds  in  new  lands,  held  to- 
gether by  the  belief  in  their  oneness  of  race.  This 
tie  of  kindred  has  steadily  grown  more  powerful  as 
the  world  has  grown  older.  And  it  is  not  impossible 
that  the  time  will  come,  in  the  blessed  future  open- 
ing before  us,  when  all  mankind,  however  scattered 
abroad,  will  trace  their  lineage  to  a  single  source ;  all 
decaying  tribes  having  wasted  away  before  the  one 
dominating  people  which  turns  proudly  to  a  single 
origin  and  to  a  single  career  among  the  nations. 
From  the  sources  of  the  Amazon,  out  of  the  rich  val- 
leys of  Central  Africa  and  the  uplands  of  Asia,  from 
the  sides  of  the  North,  the  blooming  prairie,  and  the 


468  SERMONS. 

coral  islands  of  the  Pacific,  threads  of  tender  remem- 
brance may  draw  all  hearts  toward  a  common  centre 
of  name  and  traditions. 

In  the  work  of  reuniting  the  scattered  fragments  of 
humanity,  commerce  also  bears  a  notable  part.  The 
arrangement  of  things  in  the  world  is  such  that  what 
nature  and  labor  produce  in  one  country  are  taken  to 
other  countries  for  the  promotion  of  the  common  wel- 
fare. Hence  the  business  of  carrying,  —  the  commerce 
whose  lines  run  in  all  directions  and  cross  one  another 
at  almost  every  point  of  the  earth's  surface.  The 
ships  sailing  on  the  remotest  sea  are  bringing  each 
nation  of  men  into  kindly  relations  with  the  entire 
world.  An  emperor  on  the  continent  of  Europe  dare 
not  begin  a  war  till  he  knows  how  it  will  affect  the 
merchants  of  Canton,  London,  and  San  Francisco. 
Nothing  that  makes  trade  unprofitable,  or  that  inter- 
feres greatly  with  it,  will  be  long  tolerated.  There 
are  but  few  nations  now  which  refuse  to  come  into 
this  world-congress  of  exchangers,  —  this  brotherhood 
of  buyers  and  sellers  all  over  the  earth,  who  control 
kings  and  presidents  and  lawgivers.  It  cannot  be 
denied  that  the  Sandwich  Islands  were  the  sooner  re- 
deemed from  barbarism  by  lying  as  they  did  in  the 
highway  of  the  world's  commerce.  Let  any  country 
succeed  in  opening  a  thrifty  trade  between  its  own 
ports  and  the  ports  of  other  countries,  a  trade  whose 
profits  are  equal  to  all  concerned,  and  it  needs  little 
other  warrant  that  its  rights  will  be  respected.  The 
Hottentot  can  bear  no  hatred  toward  the  Englishman 
who  takes  his  ivory  and  gives  him  its  full  value  in  use- 
ful fabrics.  The  ice-dealer  of  Bombay  is  on  friendly 
terms  with  the  New  England  shipper.  The  shoe- 
makers of  Lynn  are  interested  in  the  success  of  the 


CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS.  469 

South  American  hunter.  An  untimely  frost  in  a 
Western  valley,  or  a  flood  in  France,  or  a  tribal  war 
in  Asia,  or  the  burning  of  a  great  city,  is  often  a 
world-wide  calamity.  Rich  men  whose  homes  are  in 
Paris  have  been  made  poor  by  a  drought  in  New  York 
or  Ohio.  Places  of  abode  are  changed  for  life,  —  the 
Turk  dwelling  in  Boston,  and  the  Bostonian  in  Con- 
stantinople ;  the  New  Yorker  making  Shanghai  his 
home,  and  the  Chinaman  residing  in  New  York. 
Thus  it  is  that  all  nations,  both  the  civilized  and  the 
barbarous,  make  one  community ;  and  it  is  for  the 
interest  of  each  of  the  individuals  so  connected  that 
peace  and  goodwill  should  everywhere  exist. 

In  naming  the  more  obvious  means  by  which  the 
scattered  tribes  of  men  have  been  brought  near  to  each 
other,  the  applications  of  scientific  discovery  should  not 
be  forgotten.  The  seaports  of  the  Old  World  are  not 
half  so  far  from  us  as  they  once  were,  owing  to  the  use 
of  steam.  And  of  the  telegraph  we  may  say  that  it 
has  more  than  annihilated  space,  both  on  the  land 
and  on  the  sea.  The  electric  current  is  swifter  than 
the  earth's  motion ;  it  steals  a  march  on  time  ;  what 
took  place  In  the  far-off  Orient  we  read  of  at  an 
earlier  hour  of  our  day.  This  swift  spreading  of  the 
news  to  all  points  of  the  earth  is  a  terror  to  evil-doers. 
It  helps  the  cause  of  justice  and  goodwill.  There  is 
no  place  where  the  worker  of  iniquity  can  hide  himself 
save  by  the  connivance  of  faithless  officials.  When 
he  steps  in  disguise  on  the  remotest  shore,  a  warrant 
of  arrest  may  meet  him.  Wonderful  as  all  this  is,  yet 
who  doubts  that  science  has  other  secrets  to  declare  ? 
Wisdom  will  not  die  with  us.  That  torch  of  inventive 
genius  which  the  former  times  have  given  to  us,  we 
shall  hand  on  to  those  who  succeed  us.     Human  m^Q- 


470  SERMONS. 

nuity  will  not  rest  till  the  basis  of  a  world-wide  inti- 
macy among  men  has  been  laid.  It  will  be  because 
they  wish  to  dwell  apart,  hated  and  hating  one  an- 
other, if  they  fail  to  come  together  into  an  all-embrac- 
ing brotherhood. 

And  just  here  it  is,  dear  friends,  that  we  see  the 
need  of  an  agency  which  is  above  nature  or  man's 
power,  to  change  the  selfishness  of  the  human  heart 
into  the  spirit  of  love.  That  spirit  brought  down  to 
us  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  given  to  His  j)eople  to  be  spread 
through  the  world,  is  the  only  power  which  can  make 
one  family  of  all  the  tribes  of  men.  God  himself 
must  make  the  nations  one  by  giving  to  them  His  Son. 
The  triumph  of  the  gospel  everywhere,  and  especially 
in  the  form  of  Christian  missions,  is  our  only  hope 
that  the  golden  age  of  love,  of  which  the  poet  and 
philanthropist  dream,  will  ever  dawn.  The  spirit  of 
Christ  in  His  church,  carrying  the  life  of  God  to  every 
creature,  alone  can  give  the  new  heaven  and  the  new 
earth.  You  will  admit  that  I  have  not  undervalued 
ordinary  causes,  as  preachers  are  sometimes  charged 
with  doing.  In  considering  how  St.  John's  vision  is 
to  be  realized,  I  have  given  due  credit  to  discovery, 
emigration,  commerce,  and  the  better  control  of  nat- 
ural forces.  But  a  great  work  still  remains  undone, 
which  nothing  in  nature  or  man  shows  any  signs  of 
accomplishing.  The  union  which  they  bring  about  is 
based  on  self-interest,  and  is  wholly  unstable.  An- 
other law  of  action,  even  that  love  and  self-sacrifice 
which  came  down  from  heaven,  must  be  planted  in 
men's  hearts,  in  order  to  make  them  in  deed  and  in 
truth  one  family. 

Let  me  show,  then,  why  Christian  missions,  embody- 
ing as  they  do  the  spirit  of  divine  love,  tend  directly 
to  bring  mankind  together  into  a  single  brotherhood. 


CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS.  471 

They  proceed  on  the  principle  of  sacrifice,  —  are  a 
constant  laying  down  of  life  for  the  good  of  others. 
This  is  true  from  the  centre  to  the  circumference  of  the 
work.     Starting  from  each  home  office,  and  going  out 
on  all  sides,  we  find  at  every  step,  and  in  the  farthest 
mission  field,  self-denial  and  self-sacrifice.    There  is  an 
outlay  of  time,  strength,  and  sympathy,  for  which  no 
worldly  ruturn  is  sought  or  expected.    Poor  widows  give 
their  farthings,  and  others  their  larger  sums  ;  families 
live  on  inadequate  salaries,  uncoimted  hours  are  taken 
from  business,  days  of  prayer  and  nights  of  anxiety 
are  spent,  and  no  reward  is  thought  of  or  desired.     It 
is  all  bread  taken  from  the  mouth  at  the  Lord's  bid- 
ding and  cast  upon  the  waters,  not  to  be  gathered  again 
until  the  eternal  shore  is  reached.     Is  it  for  their  own 
sake,  think  you,  that  the  young  husband  and  wife, 
stand hig  on  the  vessel's  deck  after  the  parting  hymn 
has  been  sung,  turn  their  faces  wliithersoever  the  spirit 
sends  them  ?    Is  it  for  any  selfish  reason  that  the  aged 
parents,  who  have  reared  them  so  tenderly,  watch  the 
lessening  sail,  and  wave  their  tearful  good-by  as  it 
vanishes  from  their  view  ?     Do  they  find  any  return, 
as  the  world  counts  dividends,  in  going  back  to  look 
at  the   pictures  of   their  departed   children,  and   to 
speak  their  loved  names  ?     "  Not  for  our  sake,  but  for 
the  sake  of  those  who  know  not  Christ,"  is  the  answer 
which  confounds  the  selfish  man  when  he  asks,  ''  Why 
this  waste  ?  *'    Follow  that  little  ship's  company  on  the 
way.     Hear  them   speak  of  early  associations,  of  the 
family  circle,  the  school,  the  friends,  the  familiar  trees 
about  the  homestead,  the  loved  streams  of  water,  the 
grand  old  mountains.    "  What  induced  you  to  give  up 
all  that  peace  and  sweetness  of  life  amid  the  glorious 
surroundings  of  your  birthplace  ?  "  we  ask.     There  is 


472  SERMONS. 

a  swelling  of  great  emotions  within  them  as  they  hear 
the  question ;  and  with  brimming  yet  brave  and  up- 
turned eyes  they  say :  "  We  go  to  seek  those  for  whom 
our  Lord  died."  Is  it  a  pleasure  to  them  to  be  eon- 
fronted  daily  with  strange,  wild  faces,  to  miss  the  dear 
mother-tongue,  to  be  obliged  to  preach  the  blessed 
words  of  Christ  in  an  uncouth  and  inadequate  dialect  ? 
Look  thi-ough  their  dwelling :  its  furniture  spoiled  by 
the  heat  of  the  climate,  or  its  walls  not  able  to  keep 
out  the  wintry  wind ;  greedy  insects  invading  every 
corner  of  it,  poisonous  reptiles  crawling  over  and 
around  it,  hungry  beasts  of  prey  stealthily  watching 
in  the  jungle  hard  by,  its  table  spread  with  food  which 
only  their  wish  to  be  strong  for  their  seK-denying  work 
can  make  palatable.  ^'Does  this  pay?"  you  ask. 
"Not  as  the  money-changers  reckon  pay,"  they  an- 
swer. "  But  we,"  they  add,  "  have  another  motive : 
we  are  to  Christ  a  willing  sacrifice,  to  be  used  of  Him 
in  planting  here  His  saving  gospel."  Think  you  that 
no  struggle  takes  place  in  them  when  they  are  forced 
to  send  their  children  home  to  be  educated  ?  Is  it  such 
a  motive  as  you  act  from  in  secular  aif airs,  which  per- 
suades them  to  let  their  families  be  broken  up  ?  which 
strengthens  them  to  lie  down  and  die  alone,  beneath 
the  ice-hills  of  Greenland,  on  the  banks  of  the  Gaboon 
river,  or  within  the  suffocating  walls  of  Mosul  ?  You 
behold  here  a  new  and  marvelous  power  at  work  in  the 
world  ;  something  which  is  above  man  or  nature,  which 
came  from  the  God  who  is  love.  Here  is  no  thirst  for 
fame,  glory,  or  riches,  but  a  longing  to  be  offered  up 
for  the  good  of  others.  This  spirit  is  not  due  to  com- 
merce, to  science,  to  the  finding  and  peopling  of  new 
lands.  It  is  the  spirit  of  the  gospel,  for  lack  of  which 
the  world  has  been  full  of  discord.     Ever5rfching  which 


CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS.  473 

seemed  to  favor  universal  peace  and  goodwill  has  been 
spoiled  by  some  element  of  self-interest.  But  here  self 
is  devoted  to  the  wellbeing  of  those  who  cannot  repay ; 
and  we  all  see  that  this  spirit,  if  made  everywhere  dom- 
inant, cannot  but  bring  all  men  into  one  brotherhood. 
It  is  the  same  spirit  out  of  which  God  sent  His  Son 
into  tlie  world;  and  out  of  which  the  Son  was  obe- 
dient unto  death,  even  the  death  of  the  cross.  This 
entire  freedom  from  self-seeking,  this  eagerness  not  to 
be  ministered  unto  but  to  minister,  this  lowliness  and 
su:ffering  for  the  sake  of  others,  which  the  mighty  men 
of  the  world  have  never  shown,  but  which  is  the  spirit 
of  Christian  missions,  is  our  only  hope  of  the  new 
heaven  and  the  nev/  earth.  How  can  there  be  any  war, 
or  oppression,  or  other  abuse  of  man  by  man,  where 
each  one  is  seeking  not  his  own,  and  no  one  owes  any- 
thing but  to  love  his  brother?  Such  a  spirit  is  all- 
powerful  ;  it  tames  ferocity,  it  melts  the  icy  heart,  it 
overawes  wickedness.  Christ's  kingdom,  the  kingdom 
of  suffering  for  the  good  of  others,  though  the  least  of 
all  seeds  in  the  beginning,  is  our  only  rehance  if  the 
races  of  men  are  ever  to  become  a  single  family ;  for 
nowhere  else  do  we  find  that  self -surrender  and  toiling 
for  our  neighbor's  good  which  are  the  only  possible 
basis  of  a  real  and  enduring  brotherhood. 

But  facts,  no  less  than  the  spirit  of  missions,  show 
that  they  can  make  mankind  one  family. 

The  true  churches  of  Christ  are  already  made  one 
by  their  endeavor  to  give  the  gospel  to  every  creature. 
Persons  interested  in  the  same  objects,  and  having 
knowledge  of  each  other,  are  one  in  heart,  however 
scattered  in  space.  To  them  there  is  no  more  sea,  or 
separating  distance ;  for  the  electric  chain  of  sympathy 
makes  them  one.     There  is  a  republic  of  letters,  of 


474,  SERMONS. 

science,  of  art,  —  each  world-wide.  But  these  frater- 
nities do  not  rest  on  a  permanent  basis,  for  they  do 
not  grow  out  of  unselfish  suffering ;  the  spirit  which 
pervades  them  is  not  that  of  the  gospel.  The  fellow- 
ship of  missions  is  as  enduring  as  the  soul  of  man ; 
it  is  deep,  sweet,  tender,  beyond  the  power  of  anything 
to  disturb.  This  gentle  and  pervasive  love,  whose 
golden  threads  go  through  the  world,  is  revealing  itself 
more  and  more.  When  the  states  and  kingdoms  are 
in  commotion,  hurricanes  of  war  screaming  through 
the  sky,  this  soft  melody  of  Christian  hearts  is  un- 
interrupted ;  and  if  we  lay  our  ear  low  and  hearken 
patiently,  we  can  hear  its  breathings,  the  faint  prelude 
of  a  mighty  anthem,  heralding  the  reign  of  the  Prince 
of  Peace. 

There  is  another  fact  of  most  touching  interest, 
which  shows  how  Christian  missions  are  making  all 
lands  one.  Almost  every  Christian,  in  every  part  of 
the  world,  has  some  kinsman  or  near  friend  toiling  on 
the  other  side  of  the  globe ;  or,  may  be,  already  sleep- 
ing in  Jesus,  where  he  fell,  on  some  remote  continent 
or  island,  or  within  the  still  depths  of  the  sea.  There 
are  those  in  New  England  who  think  tenderly  of  St. 
Helena,  of  the  Isle  of  France,  of  the  hills  of  Nestoria, 
of  the  widely  scattered  lands  made  dear  to  them  by 
the  kindred  dust  of  a  Hall,  a  Judson,  or  a  Boardman, 
a  Grant,  a  Lobdell,  a  Benjamin,  a  Goodell,  a  Scudder, 
a  Poor.  These  lines  of  affection,  making  foreign  soil 
native,  go  out  all  ways  and  to  the  remotest  points  ;  and 
to  the  heart  which  thus  loves  and  communes  there  is  no 
more  sea.  You  mock  it,  denying  its  own  sweet  wit- 
ness, if  you  say  that  it  is  not  one  with  its  kindred  who 
have  died  in  Christ.  It  lingers  near  the  burial-ground 
of  Batticotta  in  the  twilight  hour,  and  is  soothed  by 


CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS.  475 

the  spicy  breezes  wliicli  blow  soft  from  Ceylon's  Isle. 
It  wiilks  through  the  exhumed  palaces  of  Nineveh, 
and  looks  wistfully  out  on  the  lowly  grave-stones  beside 
the  Tigris.  It  sits  beneath  the  cedars  of  Lebanon, 
and  hears  in  the  sighing  of  their  branches  the  voice 
of  its  own  communion.  The  cocoa  and  the  palm, 
though  as  far  as  the  East  and  the  West  from  it,  are 
its  own  trees.  For  it  is  the  cemeteries,  the  places 
where  our  own  kindred  sleep,  which  our  hearts  spe- 
cially claim ;  there  we  dwell,  oftentimes  more  truly 
than  where  we  are  visibly  present.  Thus  every  con- 
tinent and  island  and  valley  and  mountain,  around 
and  all  over  the  world,  is  fast  becoming  fatherland 
and  home  to  the  brotherhood  of  Christian  hearts. 
Our  self-love  and  patriotism  are  widening  into  an 
affection  which  embraces  the  world;  into  that  holy 
and  divine  love  which  will  not  rest  from  its  blessed 
ministry  till  the  lowest  child  of  Adam  has  found  the 
tree  of  life ;  till  all  nations  are  of  one  heart  and  one 
speech,  and  the  soul  of  a  brother  looks  out  from  every 
eye,  and  to  live  is  to  serve,  and  to  labor  is  to  love. 

That  the  spirit  of  Christian  missions  is  able  to  do 
this,  is  foreshadowed  by  what  they  have  already  done. 
Whatever  they  touch,  they  consecrate  and  make  im- 
mortal. Go  to  Williamstown,  and  you  will  be  shown 
the  spot  where  Mills  and  his  associates  met  to  pray. 
That  spot,  more  than  the  college,  makes  the  name  of 
the  town  dear  in  all  lands.  Go  to  Andover,  and  they 
will  remind  you  that  there  those  missionaries  studied. 
Go  to  Salem,  and  it  will  be  said  to  you,  "  Here  the 
first  missionaries  were  ordained."  I  have  met  a  ship- 
master who  remembered  with  pride  that  the  first  mis- 
sionaries to  the  Sandwich  Islands  sailed  wdth  him. 
There  are  thousands  of  men  and  women  living  in  the 


476  SERiVONS. 

far-off  East  and  on  tlie  islands  of  tlie  sea,  who  know 
Boston  only  as  the  j)lace  from  which  missionaries  are 
sent. 

What  marvelous  power  the  Christian  missionary 
has !  The  memory  of  David  Brainerd  is  to-day  a  con- 
verting power,  and.  Henry  Martyn  helps  hold  the  uni- 
versity of  Cambridge  to  the  foundations  of  its  faith 
in  Christ.  The  power  of  such  men  is  not  merely  nat- 
ural ;  it  is  supernatural.  Their  strength  may  be  small, 
and  they  may  be  young  and  without  earthly  prestige, 
yet  the  life  of  Christ  has  through  their  consecration 
to  Him  filled  them,  and  by  them  He  speaks,  as  never 
man  spake,  to  His  brethren  sitting  in  darkness.  The 
poor  idolater  sees  in  them  a  love  not  born  of  man  but 
of  God,  and  he  gladly  takes  the  message  of  salvation 
which  they  bring  him  from  the  Father  of  His  sjDirit. 
I  doubt  not  there  are  some  in  this  assembly  who  have 
been  welcomed  where  the  ambassadors  of  no  civil 
power  would  be  safe.  Those  of  us  wdio  have  read  the 
life  of  David  Invingstone  cannot  doubt  that,  if  there 
were  a  hundred  such  as  he  in  Africa,  a  hundred  such 
as  he  in  China,  in  Japan,  a  hundred  such  as  he  in 
Turkey,  in  India,  in  Burmah,  all  preaching  Jesus 
Christ  as  the  one  hope  and  King  of  men,  the  great 
multitude  whose  voice  is  as  the  voice  of  mighty  thun- 
derings  would  soon  be  heard,  saying,  "  Alleluia,  for 
the  Lord  God  Omnipotent  reigneth." 

Eead  the  story  of  Coleridge  Patteson,  late  bishop 
of  the  English  church  at  the  Melanesian  Islands,  if 
you  would  know  what  the  missionary  sj^irit  may  do  for 
a  man.  He  was  the  son  of  Sir  John  Patteson,  born 
so  recently  as  1827,  brought  up  to  all  the  elegances 
and  costly  pleasures  usual  to  the  homes  of  the  Eng- 
lish nobility.     He  was  a  scholar  at  Eton  when  Victoria 


CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS.  477 

came  to  the  throne,  —  a  favorite  of  teachers  and  class- 
mates, and  their  petted  champion  on  the  cricket-field. 
From  this  proud  school  under  the  shadow  of  Windsor 
Castle  he  went  to  Oxford,  the  holy  fire  of  missions 
already  burning  in  his  heart.  Upon  graduating,  he 
turned  his  back  on  all  the  pride  and  glory  of  English 
high  life,  and  went  in  the  spirit  of  Christ  and  His 
cross  to  as  wretched  a  set  of  tribes  as  can  be  found 
on  the  earth.  Far  to  the  southeast  of  Australia,  in 
his  little  ship  which  he  named  the  Southern  Cross,  he 
toiled  from  island  to  island,  devoting  his  whole  earthly 
fortune  to  the  work,  —  carpenter,  mason,  gardener,  and 
farmer,  cook  and  seamster  and  nurse  and  doctor,  stu- 
dent, translator,  teacher,  catechist,  minister  ;  declining 
to  return  home,  asking  that  his  portion  of  the  estate 
might  be  given  to  his  mission.  Thus  he  bore  up 
through  loneliness,  against  opposition,  under  disease, 
till  at  last,  in  the  freshness  of  his  glorious  manhood, 
the  natives  who  loved  him,  unfortunately  mistaking 
him  for  a  slave-hunter  known  to  be  prowling  around, 
suddenly  rushed  upon  him  out  of  an  ambush  as  he 
was  one  day  leaving  his  ship,  and  took  his  life  before 
he  could  tell  them  who  he  was.  One  such  heroic  life 
as  that  is  worth  a  thousand  lives  dawdled  away  in  lux- 
urious ease.  Jesus  Christ  formed  within  him  made 
him  such  a  centre  of  attraction,  and  such  an  uplifting 
and  purifying  power,  as  promised  in  a  little  while  to 
make  all  those  poor  savages  one  fold  under  the  one 
Divine  Shepherd. 

If  you  still  doubt  the  power  of  this  all-devoting 
love,  which  is  the  soul  of  missions,  to  tame  mid  natives 
and  make  them  one  family,  read  the  story  of  Miss 
Pattison,  "Sister  Dora,"  in  the  festering  dens  and 
hospitals  of  Walsall,  England.     It  was  the  missionary 


478  SERMONS. 

spirit  which,  in  that  nominally  Christian  but  degraded 
and  wicked  city,  made  her  the  adored  queen  whose 
word  was  law  to  the  brutal  and  vicious  creatures  about 
her.  What  a  day  it  was  on  which  she  was  buried ! 
The  confused  roar  of  machinery  and  the  thud  and 
clang  of  steam-hammers  ceased.  The  chimneys  of 
furnaces  and  foundries  belched  forth  no  flames  that 
day.  Only  a  heavy  cloud  of  smoke  lay  like  a  pall 
on  the  great  sooty  town.  Wretched  toilers  swarmed 
forth  by  the  thousand  and  ten  thousand,  their  hearts 
bowed  by  the  magic  power  of  her  all-devoting  love,  as 
the  trees  of  the  wood  are  bowed  by  the  wind. 

Ah,  dear  friends,  the  true  missionary  is  clothed 
with  a  sacredness  which  awes  the  roving  child  of  the 
desert.  His  spirit  of  love  teaches  the  wild  Koord  to 
be  kind  and  merciful.  His  one  thought  of  saving 
others,  at  the  risk  of  his  own  life,  charms  the  Hindoo 
mind  away  from  superstition  and  bloody  rites.  How 
often  kings  have  besought  his  good  offices  in  treating 
with  the  savage  chiefs  whom  they  would  win  to 
friendly  alliance  !  The  deadly  intolerance  of  Islam  is 
yielding  in  the  presence  of  the  heavenly  love  which 
he  brings  to  it.  Chinese  exclusiveness  levels  its  walls 
at  the  approach  of  a  pure  gospel.  Japan,  her  heart 
thrilled  by  the  morning  beams  of  Christianity,  is  send- 
ing her  brightest  minds  to  be  moulded  by  its  hand, 
and  these  are  carrying  more  and  more  of  the  spirit  of 
redemption  back  into  their  marvelous  country.  This 
missionary  work,  which  all  who  understand  it  so 
eagerly  welcome,  has  already  begun  to  make  strange 
races  to  be  of  one  heart  and  one  mind.  Great  is  the 
work  which  has  been  already  done.  Yet  the  near  fu- 
ture gives  promise  of  something  vastly  greater.  God 
is  opening  doors  into  all  lands,  where  eager  hands  are 


CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS.  479 

stretched  out  to  receive  the  blessing.  Let  all  Chris- 
tians give  to  this  blessed  work  according  to  their  re- 
sources, and  toil  in  it  as  they  have  the  opportunity 
and  power,  and  the  day  is  not  far  off  when  the  one 
kingdom  which  all  other  kingdoms  are  to  help  make 
up  shall  be  proclaimed.  The  yearning  of  the  human 
heart  for  fellowship  with  all  other  hearts  shall  be  met. 
Every  man's  love  shall  find  completeness  in  the  ocean 
of  universal  love.  God,  who  is  all,  shall  be  in  all ; 
and  this  divine  indwelling  shall  make  all  one  ;  there 
shall  be  neither  Jew  nor  Greek,  barbarian,  Scythian, 
bond  nor  free,  but  all  shall  be  one,  and  shall  grow  up 
together  into  Christ,  who  is  the  Plead. 

What  occasion  have  we,  dear  friends,  to  doubt  that 
the  Holy  Spirit,  in  whose  dispensation  we  are  now  liv- 
ing, is  fully  able  to  renew  our  entire  world  ?  Are  we 
not  doing  dishonor  to  His  blessed  name  and  office 
when  we  say  that  Christ  must  again  visibly  come, 
take  from  tlie  Holy  Spirit  His  unfinished  work,  and 
Himself  complete  the  bringing  together  of  mankind  in 
Him  ?  Is  it  not  enough  that  the  Comforter  takes  of 
Christ  and  shows  to  men,  and  convinces  them  of  sin 
and  righteousness  and  judgment;  but  must  He  be 
thrust  out  of  His  office,  and  Christ  do  what  He  has 
failed  to  accomplish,  before  the  woild  can  be  con- 
verted to  God  ?  This  certainly  is  not  the  view  which 
Christ  Himself  gave  when  He  told  His  disciples  it  was 
expedient  for  them  that  He  should  go  away,  since  if 
He  went  not  away  the  Comforter  would  not  come. 
AVhat  mean  those  words,  and  the  greater  works  than 
His  of  which  He  spoke,  if  the  Holy  Spirit  is  not  ade- 
quate to  all  the  wants  of  the  church  in  carrying  out 
our  Lord's  last  command?  The  nature  of  the  gospel 
and  the  history  of  its  progress  thus  far  ought  to  con- 


480  SERMONS. 

vince  us  that  the  present  dispensation  o£  grace  is 
enough  for  all  the  work  we  are  to  do.  Going  outside 
of  the  church,  in  the  province  of  civil  affairs,  think 
v/hat  a  blessed  contrast  between  the  present  state  of 
things  and  that  which  prevailed  even  so  late  as  three 
centuries  ago  !  In  all  domestic  legislation  and  in  in- 
ternational law  there  has  been  a  wonderful  advance, 
and  this  advance  has  been  a  steady  approach  toward 
the  teachings  of  Christ.  Nations  are  growing  more 
and  more  ashamed  of  anything  on  their  statute-books 
or  in  their  administration  which  the  spirit  of  the 
gospel  forbids.  Ah,  dear  friends,  we  put  asunder 
church  and  state,  but  Christ  knows  which  is  His ! 
They  were  both  ordained  of  God,  nor  can  we  say  that 
either  of  them  alone  represents  the  one  kingdom  into 
which  all  other  kingdoms  are  to  be  absorbed.  The 
present  religious  sects  may  fade  away,  and  it  may  be 
some  form  of  civil  power  embodying  the  spirit  of 
the  New  Testament,  and  world-wide  in  sway,  which 
Christ  shall  own  as  His  universal  church  when  He 
comes  in  the  clouds  of  heaven. 

At  any  rate,  whether  we  study  the  history  of  the 
state  or  the  church,  we  find  bright  proofs  that  all  the 
aid  needed  for  the  conversion  of  the  world  is  now  at 
our  command.  You  cannot  conceive  of  any  more 
marvelous  victories  of  the  gospel  under  some  dispen- 
sation yet  to  come  than  took  place  in  the  apostolic 
age,  than  attended  the  labors  of  Chrysostom  and  Au- 
gustine, than  followed  the  preaching  of  the  Wesleys, 
Whitefield,  and  Jonathan  Edwards.  How  often  we 
have  seen  God  take  men  out  of  the  depths  of  igno- 
rance and  want,  and  with  them  mightily  increase 
His  kingdom,  thus  shaming  our  lack  of  faith  in  the 
agencies  for  good  which  are  already  ours!     If  you 


CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS.  481 

think  Christ  must  needs  come  in  some  new  form  of 
power,  in  order  that  the  nations  may  be  given  to 
Him,  what  do  you  do  with  the  story  of  the  Sandwich 
Islands  or  of  the  island  of  Madagascar  ?  Could  the 
recent  history  of  Madagascar  be  any  more  wonderful 
if  Christ  were  visibly  with  us  ?  At  the  beginning  of 
this  century  it  was  peopled  by  a  nation  of  idolaters, 
skilled  in  many  of  the  arts  and  ways  of  civilized  life, 
but  who  were  so  sunk  in  the  vices  and  crimes  of  their 
heathenism  that  they  might  have  sat  for  St.  Paul's 
picture  in  the  First  of  Komans.  But  to-day,  through 
God's  blessing  on  the  work  of  the  English  missiona- 
ries, they  are  a  Christian  nation,  with  churches, 
schools,  a  native  ministry,  wise  laws,  social  and  do- 
mestic order,  libraries,  newspapers  ;  their  queen  and 
many  of  her  chief  officers  devoted  servants  of  Christ. 
Who  art  thou  that  darest  to  say,  "  Are  there  not  yet 
four  months,  and  then  cometh  the  harvest?"  Can 
you  imagine  any  transformation  in  the  future  which 
shall  be  more  wonderful  than  this?  Go  to  that  is- 
land, and  tell  its  people  that  Christ  is  coming  back  to 
our  world  some  day  to  subdue  men  under  Him,  and 
they  would  not  understand  you.  They  would  look  on 
you  with  astonishment.  TeU  them  that  the  gospel  as 
now  revealed  is  to  save  only  a  handful  of  our  race, 
and  they  would  not  take  you  for  a  Christian,  but  for 
a  Hebrew  of  the  Hebrews.  They  would  say  that  the 
millennial  glory  is  already  theirs,  and  that  they  are  so 
blessed  in  this  as  not  to  be  able  to  think  of  one  yet  to 
come.  The  utmost  they  can  pray  for  is  that  the  light 
which  has  visited  them  may  spread  over  the  w^orld. 

Not  only  do  we  need  simply  the  power  which  we 
already  have,  but  where  has  any  more  been  promised 
us  ?     Was  it  not  aU  given,  and  pointed  to  as  our  war- 


482  SERMONS. 

rant  for  attempting  the  conquest  of  the  world,  in  the 
hour  when  Christ  ascended  to  the  Father  ?  O  ye  who 
doubt  the  present,  and  who  peer  anxiously  into  the 
future  for  some  new  revelation  of  Christ's  power,  go 
out  with  your  risen  Lord  from  Jerusalem  to  the 
Mount  of  Olives.  What  does  He  say  as  He  is  about 
to  be  parted  from  you  ?  Does  He  say  that  you  must 
wait  for  His  final  coming,  and  only  then  see  His 
kingdom  begin  to  prevail  ?  No,  dear  friends.  He 
looks  for  no  new  sources  of  strength  to  Him  and  His 
church  in  the  future.  But  He  says  —  oh,  listen  to 
what  He  says  !  listen  !  —  "  All  power  is  given  unto 
me  in  heaven  and  in  earth !  "  Therefore  what  ? 
Stand  gazing  up  into  heaven?  whisper  among  the 
faint-hearted  that  we  cannot  go  over  and  possess  the 
land  ?  preach  that  our  largest  success  must  needs  be 
but  partial  till  this  same  Jesus  is  again  visibly  with 
us  ?  No,  dear  friends  ;  not  this,  nor  anything  like  it, 
but  something  very  different  from  it !  "  All  power 
is  given  unto  me  in  heaven  and  in  earth,  therefore  GO 
—  and  teach  all  nations,  baptizing  them  in  the  name 
of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  teaching  them  to  observe  all  things  whatsoever 
I  have  commanded  you ;  and  lo,  I  AM  with  you  alway, 
even  unto  the  end  of  the  world." 


ADDRESSES. 


SAMUEL  ADAMS. 

In  the  long  night  of  national  perplexity,  when  our 
way  is  doubtful  and  those  chosen  to  lead  us  give  con- 
flicting counsels,  it  may  cheer  us  to  look  up,  for  a 
little,  to  the  stars  of  our  political  heavens,  —  to  those 
still  but  ever  faithful  monitors  whom  no  ambitions,  or 
party  quarrels,  or  maddening  greed  of  office,  can  per- 
suade to  mislead  and  betray  us.  The  revolving  cen- 
tury is  lifting  many  of  those  stars  into  the  horizon ; 
bright  names  of  the  Revolutionary  period,  which  gave 
birth  to  those  ideas  and  principles  that  are  still  the 
hope  and  the  guide  of  the  republic.  Central  and  fore- 
most, and  in  certain  respects  forever  greatest,  in  that 
benign  constellation,  shines  the  name  of  Samuel 
Adams.  It  is  not  necessary  now  to  account  for  that 
obscurity  which  has  rested  on  his  more  private  and 
personal  history,  except  to  say  that  it  was,  in  part,  a 
result  of  political  animosities  which  embittered  his  old 
age ;  a  result  too,  in  part,  of  his  having  outlived  those 
who  knew  him  well  in  the  days  of  the  Revolutionary 
struggle ;  as  also,  in  part,  of  his  devotion  to  the  public 
good,  which  was  so  constant  and  absorbing  as  to  allow 
no  time  or  thought  for  recording  personal  memoirs. 
His  career  illustrates  the  saying  that  vast  and  mighty 
forces  are  concealed.     The  power  of  gravitation  is  not 


484  ADDRESSES. 

conspicuous,  yet  every  atom  of  matter  in  the  universe 
does  its  bidding.  There  were  occasions,  as  we  shall 
see,  when  he  came  out  of  his  pavilion  and  assumed  a 
leadership  to  which  no  other  courage  was  equal,  mak- 
ing himself  the  conspicuous  mark  at  which  the  bolts  of 
British  tyranny  were  especially  levelled ;  yet,  so  long- 
as  the  good  cause  went  forward,  he  preferred  to  toil  out 
of  sight,  leaving  it  for  the  less  devoted  to  draw  the  gaze 
and  the  applause  of  the  public.  Only  the  more  pene- 
trating minds,  such  as  Thomas  Jefferson  and  those  who 
have  carefully  studied  the  annals  of  that  time,  have  dis- 
covered how  emphatically  he  was  the  master  spirit  in 
the  cause  of  independence.  He  is  known  in  history  as 
the  "  Father  of  the  Revolution,"  —  a  title  which  by  com- 
mon consent  had  even  in  his  lifetime  been  accorded 
him.  Nor  does  any  other  title  so  fully,  and  yet  without 
flattery,  indicate  the  great  and  initial  work  by  which  he 
laid,  almost  with  his  own  hands  alone,  the  foundations 
of  our  free  nationality.  Unlike  Washington  in  mili- 
tary glory  and  the  proprietorship  of  vast  estates,  unlike 
Lincoln  in  the  crown  of  martyrdom  and  those  homely 
charms  which  fit  one  to  become  a  popular  idol,  unlike 
them  both  in  the  renown  and  opportunities  of  high 
office,  he  was  every  whit  their  peer  in  devotion  to  the 
rights  of  man,  their  superior  in  the  Puritanic  integrity 
of  his  character ;  and  he  fixed  for  them  both,  and  for 
all  his  successors,  the  corner-stone  of  American  lib- 
erties, from  which  the  whole  building  has  been  grow- 
ing up  toward  a  perfect  temple,  only  to  realize  in  its 
latest  completeness  the  ideal  which  inspired  him. 

As  the  great  founder  of  the  Hebrew  state  was  called 
to  his  work  while  he  yet  ministered  as  a  child  before 
Eli,  so  this  American  Samuel  seemed  to  receive  his 
consecration  almost  in  infancy.     Destined  to  find  his 


SAMUEL  ADAMS.  485 

Amaleklte  in  the  British  king,  his  Saul  in  John  Han- 
cock, and  his  David  only  in  Washington,  his  early 
traininof  was  in  a  school  that  furnished  him  well  for 
the  bold  and  delicate  office.  The  father  of  our  little 
Samuel,  besides  being  deacon  in  the  church  and  cap- 
tain of  militia,  was  a  leader  in  the  politics  of  Bos- 
ton. At  his  house  a  few  of  the  citizens  met  regularly 
to  discuss  the  interests  of  the  colonies  and  their  rela- 
tions to  the  mother  country,  —  known,  from  the  connec- 
tion of  most  of  them  with  the  shipbuilding  interest,  as 
the  "  Caulkers'  Club,"  whence  the  more  familiar  word 
"  caucus."  Deacon  Adams,  like  the  true  Puritan  that 
he  was,  supposed,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  his  prom- 
ising son  would  be  a  minister.  But  while  his  hopes 
and  frequent  hints  to  the  son  looked  this  way,  the 
influence  of  the  Caulkers'  Club  was  doing  its  silent 
w^ork ;  and  it  seemed  to  the  boy,  in  the  pauses  of  the 
earnest  discussions,  that  something  whispered  wdthin 
him,  "  Thou  art  called  unto  liberty."  This  faint  ad- 
monition grew  clearer  as  he  neared  the  age  of  man- 
hood ;  and  wdien,  upon  the  day  of  his  graduation  at 
Harvard  College,  in  an  essay  on  the  query  "  Whether 
it  be  lawful  to  resist  the  supreme  magistrate  if  the 
commonwealth  cannot  be  otherwise  preserved,"  he 
took  the  affirmative  of  the  question,  and  boldly  main- 
tained the  right  of  the  subject  to  defend  himself 
against  the  encroachments  of  the  monarch,  the  spirit 
of  Freedom  seemed  to  descend  upon  him,  and  set  him 
apart  from  all  other  callings,  to  be  her  own  especial 
champion. 

The  father  no  longer  insisted  on  his  plan  for  the 
ministry,  yielding  to  what  he  regarded  as  the  mani- 
fest will  of  Heaven  ;  yielding  the  more  readily,  per- 
haps, for  the  reason  that  British  legislation,  interfering 


486  ADDRESSES. 

with  the  rights  of  the  colonists,  had  already  reduced 
hiin  to  the  verge  of  poverty.  He  was  willing  that 
Samuel  should  be  a  law  unto  himself,  and  enter  the 
dread  arena  against  the  power  by  which  father  and 
son  both  had  been  so  bitterly  injured.  No  one  watched 
with  more  tender  interest  the  opening  career  of  the 
youthful  champion  than  his  elder  sister  Mary.  Her 
sympathy  and  counsels  seem  to  have  been  to  him  a 
daily  inspiration,  drawing  from  him  in  later  years 
the  noble  remark ;  "  That  is  a  happy  young  man  who 
has  had  an  elder  sister  upon  whom  he  could  rely  for 
advice  and  counsel  in  youth." 

He  had  no  love  of  money.  It  was  not  to  rebuild 
his  broken  fortunes,  but  from  an  innate  love  of  jus- 
tice, that  he  ventured  upon  the  unequal  contest.  Busi- 
ness, with  which  he  dallied  for  a  time,  languished  upon 
his  hands.  Far  other  was  the  work  he  had  been  sent 
to  do.  We  cannot  say  how  early  in  life  he  formed 
the  distinct  purpose  of  laboring  for  American  inde- 
pendence, but  there  is  no  recorded  act  of  his  within 
the  sphere  of  politics,  even  from  the  beginning,  which 
did  not  tend  directly  to  this  result.  His  whole  life, 
from  1748,  when  he  was  twenty-six  years  old,  to  the 
time  of  the  first  peace  with  England,  —  nearly  a  third 
of  a  century,  —  was  a  single  campaign.  And  never 
did  Napoleon,  or  Wellington,  or  Grant  plan  a  cam- 
paign more  thoroughly,  or  "  fight  it  out "  more  un- 
swervingly. 

One  of  his  first  steps  was  the  organization  of  a 
political  club,  and  the  issue  of  a  weekly  paper  called 
the  '^  Political  Advertiser."  In  that  paper  he  pub- 
lished a  series  of  essays  on  liberty,  and  on  the  rela- 
tions of  England  to  America,  remarkable  for  their 
bold  speculation,  profound  insight,   mature  thought, 


SAMUEL  ADAMS.  487 

and  classic  purity  of  style,  anticipating  almost  the 
whole  ground  of  debate  in  the  Kevolutionary  struggle. 
The  subjects  of  these  essays  were  carefully  discussed 
in  the  club  before  giving  them  to  the  public.  Thus 
the  little  circle  of  patriots  were  drawn  more  closely 
together,  came  to  be  of  one  heart  and  mind,  and  were 
fired  with  a  common  enthusiasm ;  and  the  opinions 
which  went  forth  from  them  had  a  sober  and  well- 
considered  look  which  gave  them  great  weight  with 
the  thoughtful  reader.  It  came  to  be  a  matter  of  no 
small  honor,  among  the  more  aspiring  young  men,  to 
be  a  member  of  this  club ;  and  Adams  watched  it  as 
the  very  centre  of  all  his  hopes,  excluding  from  it  any 
who  leaned  ^to  the  royal  side,  but  gladly  admitting 
such  as  he  could  count  on  in  the  battle  for  colonial 
rights.  It  was  the  furnace,  kept  blazing  night  and 
day,  at  which  the  weapons  of  liberty  were  forged,  and 
to  which  the  patriots  of  the  time  came  to  light  their 
torches.  There  was  one  feature  of  this  club  which, 
I  think,  will  commend  it  to  all  good  wives  and  sisters 
and  mothers.  It  seems  to  have  met  for  the  most  part 
in  Mr.  Adams's  own  house.  It  was  domesticated  in 
his  family,  mingling  its  earnest  discussions  with  the 
prattle  of  childhood  and  the  gentle  words  of  woman, 
around  his  ample  hearthstone.  Hospitality,  love  of 
home,  and  reverence  for  true  womanhood  were  thus 
sacredly  intertwined  with  his  devotion  to  freedom. 
His  first  wife  was  the  daughter  of  his  minister  [at  the 
New  South  Church]  ;  and  we  may  judge  how  tender 
was  the  charm  she  had  woven  round  his  life,  by  what 
he  wi'ote  in  the  family  Bible  the  day  she  died :  "  To 
her  husband  she  was  as  sincere  a  friend  as  she  was  a 
faithful  wife.  Her  exact  economy,  in  all  her  relative 
capacities,  her  kindred  on  his  side  as  well  as  her  own 


488  ADDRESSES. 

admire.  Slie  ran  her  Christian  race  with  remarkable 
steadiness,  and  finished  in  triumph.  She  left  two 
small  children.  God  grant  they  may  inherit  her 
graces ! " 

The  light  of  the  home  thus  early  quenched  was  re- 
lighted after  an  interval  of  seven  years,  Elizabeth 
Wells  succeeding  to  the  place  of  Elizabeth  Checkley. 
She  proved  a  worthy  successor ;  and  from  that  time 
forward  to  the  day  of  his  death,  patriotism  and  domes- 
tic love  blended  their  fervent  rays  in  his  simple  house- 
hold. Mr.  Bancroft  says :  "  He  was  a  tender  husband, 
an  affectionate  parent,  and  relaxing  from  severer  cares 
he  could  vividly  enjoy  the  delights  of  conversation 
with  friends ;  but  the  walls  of  his  modest  mansion 
never  witnessed  dissipation,  or  levity,  or  frivolous 
amusements,  or  anything  inconsistent  with  the  dis- 
cipline of  the  man  whose  incessant  prayer  was  that 
'  Boston  might  become  a  Christian  Sparta.'  He  was 
poor,  and  so  contented  with  poverty  that  men  censured 
him  as  '  wanting  wisdom  to  estimate  riches  at  their 
just  value.'  But  he  was  frugal  and  temperate ;  and 
his  wife,  endowed  with  the  best  qualities  of  a  New 
England  woman,  knew  how  to  work  with  her  own 
hands,  so  that  the  small  resources,  which  men  of  the 
least  opulent  class  would  have  deemed  a  very  imper- 
fect support,  were  sufficient  for  his  simple  wants. 
Yet  such  was  the  union  of  dignity  with  economy  that 
whoever  visited  him  saw  around  him  every  circum- 
stance of  propriety.  Above  all,  he  combined  with 
poverty  a  stern  and  incorruptible  integrity."  Such 
was  the  home  in  which  the  child  of  independence  was 
born  and  cradled.  It  is  no  extravagance,  but  simple 
truth  only,  to  say  of  that  "  modest  mansion,"  that  it 
was  the  headquarters  of  the  party  of  liberty  for  nearly 


SAMUEL   ADAMS.  489 

a  generation.  Thither  came  Otis,  Warren,  Hancock, 
and  a  host  of  others  continually,  to  catch  its  inspira- 
tion ;  and  from  it  went  forth  those  calm  but  electric 
words  which  fired  the  hearts  of  the  people,  and  mar- 
shalled them  to  the  dread  encounter.  Toward  that 
plain  dwelling  the  eyes  of  the  poor  and  lowly  were 
ever  turned  as  the  citadel  of  their  strength.  "  Samuel 
Adams  during  all  his  life  was  their  tribune."  They 
saw  his  withering  indignation  falling  perpetually  on 
the  haughty  few  who  "  despise  their  neighbor's  hap- 
piness because  he  wears  a  worsted  cap  or  leathern 
apron."  "  Most  of  his  public  papers,"  says  one  of  his 
biographers,  ''  were  written  in  a  study  or  library  ad- 
joining his  bedroom ;  and  his  wife,  after  his  death, 
related  how  in  the  stillness  of  the  night  she  used  to 
listen  to  the  incessant  motion  of  the  pen  in  the  next 
room,  whence  the  solitary  lamp,  which  lighted  the 
patriot  in  his  labors,  was  visible.  One  who  knew  him 
personally,  and  whose  business  obliged  him  for  a  long 
time  to  pass  after  midnight  by  the  house,  says  that  he 
seldom  failed  to  see  the  study  lighted,  no  matter  how 
far  the  night  was  gone ;  '  and  he  knew  that  Sam 
Adams  was  hard  at  work  writing  against  the  Tories.' "'  ^ 
Well  did  that  solitary  lamp  typify  the  mission  of 
Adams,  whose  soul  was  bright  with  hope  for  his  coun- 
try in  her  darkest  hours,  who  toiled  sleeplessly  on 
while  others  sank  exhausted  amid  thickening  dangers, 
whose  steady  enthusiasm  was  a  star  that  ever  cheered 
the  benighted  patriot. 

His  plan,  at  which  he  thus  toiled  from  youth  to  old 

age,    and  which   opened   out  more    and   more  till  it 

became  commensurate  with  the  history  of  his  times, 

may  be  sketched  in  few  words :  first,  the  education  of 

1  Wells's  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  202. 


490  ADDRESSES. 

the  people  into  a  profound  knowledge  and  vivid  con- 
sciousness of  their  rights  as  freemen ;  second,  a  fear- 
less exposure,  to  his  countrymen  and  the  world,  of  the 
encroachments  of  Britain  upon  those  rights  ;  third, 
the  arousing  of  the  masses  to  that  lofty  patriotism 
which  should  prevent  their  being  bribed  into  compli- 
ance with  the  royal  pleasure  ;  fourth,  the  union  of  all 
the  colonies  in  one  grand  struggle  for  independence. 
We  stand  fixed  with  admiring  wonder  in  view  of  the 
undertaking  thus  briefly  outlined.  Could  anything 
short  of  a  Divine  inspiration  have  nerved  that  one 
obscure  man  to  attempt  so  mighty  a  deliverance  of 
his  people  ?  Was  it  not  a  rare  instance  of  the  moral 
sublime  when  he  thus  entered  the  lists  against  all  the 
ideas  of  the  Old  World,  and  challenged  the  most  im- 
perial power  on  earth  to  a  hand-to-hand  encounter  in 
championship  of  human  rights?  We  think  of  the 
lofty  determination  of  the  printer-boy  of  Newbury- 
port,  who  more  than  thirty  years  ago  vowed  eternal 
hostility  to  the  slave-power  in  the  South ;  of  the  pur- 
pose of  Columbus,  that  child  amid  the  warehouses  of 
Genoa,  to  discover  a  new  world ;  of  the  lonely  monk 
of  Wittenberg,  lifting  his  battle-axe  against  papal 
supremacy :  for  it  is  only  such  undertakings  as  those 
that  can  parallel  the  stupendous  plan  of  Adams.  If 
we  were  to  seek  a  parallel  in  sacred  history,  it  would 
be  the  shepherd  of  Midian,  coming  down  out  of  Horeb 
from  the  bush  that  burned,  to  deliver  his  suffering 
countrymen  from  Egyptian  bondage,  and  lead  them 
through  the  dread  wilderness  that  stretched  from  the 
Red  Sea  to  the  river  Jordan.  It  was  in  the  rayless 
midnight  that  the  immortal  hero  lighted  his  solitary 
lamp  ;  nor  did  the  steady  beam  of  that  lamp  for  a 
moment  grow  dim  tiU  the  Aurora  of  Independence  had 


SAMUEL   ADAMS.  491 

purpled  the  eastern  sky.  That  faithful  pen  moved 
incessantly  on  in  the  little  chamber,  mingling  its  rus- 
tle with  the  whispered  prayers  of  the  waking  wife,  till 
its  sentences  bristled  into  bayonets  and  swords,  and 
the  dream  of  the  patriot  became  the  heritage  of  the 
world. 

A  benign  Providence  seemed  to  be  with  Adams 
from  first  to  last,  favoring  his  vast  design.  The  pro- 
ducts of  his  prolific  pen,  meant  to  educate  his  country- 
men to  a  clear  knowledge  and  jealous  guardianship 
of  their  rights,  were  sown  broadcast  during  the  mild 
administrations  of  Shirley  and  Pownall.  They  were 
of  just  the  nature  to  waken  a  responsive  chord  in  the 
popular  heart,  and  radical  enough  to  provoke  earnest 
replies  from  royalists  both  at  home  and  in  Europe, 
but  they  excited  no  immediate  alarm.  There  was 
hardly  a  ripple  as  yet  on  the  surface  of  affairs  to  her- 
ald the  gathering  tempest ;  the  revolution  destined  to 
burst  over  a  continent  had  not  scented  the  breeze. 
Natural  rights,  chartered  rights,  and  the  constitutional 
rights  of  British  subjects  were  thorouglily  discussed 
in  all  their  relations  and  bearings,  and  the  good  seed 
had  taken  deep  root  in  a  congenial  soil  before  the 
winter  of  despotic  rule  came  on. 

The  change  on  the  part  of  England  from  a  mild  to 
an  aggressive  policy  could  not  intimidate  but  only  ex- 
asperate a  people  thus  prepared.  What  now  most  be- 
hooved the  irreat  liberator  was  to  watch  the  course  of 
the  British  ministry,  and  of  Bernard,  Hutchinson,  and 
Gage,  and  drag  forth  their  oppressive  measures  into 
the  light  of  day.  This  he  did  with  sleepless  vigilance, 
and  with  a  vividness  of  description  that  stirred  almost 
to  madness  the  sensitive  minds  of  his  countrymen. 
Did  England  propose  that  the  colonists   should  pay 


492  ADDRESSES. 

the  expenses  of  the  French  war,  in  which  they  had 
abeady  so  grievously  suffered?  That  proposal  was 
known  in  every  hamlet  of  Massachusetts,  where  it 
met  a  proud  defiance.  The  newspaper  columns  were 
the  columns  on  which  Adams  relied,  and  by  which  he 
conquered.  They  flew  everywhere,  bristling  with  his 
sharp  exposures  of  schemes  to  cripple  the  finances,  the 
manufactures,  the  trade  of  the  colonies,  and  to  reduce 
them  to  a  state  of  spiritless  dependence  on  the  mother 
country.  Nothing  could  be  more  opportune,  since  he 
asked  nothing  better  for  his  purpose,  than  unjust  rev- 
enue laws,  attempts  to  tax  an  unrepresented  people, 
and  to  quarter  soldiers  in  time  of  peace  upon  the  un- 
offending inhabitants.  These  events  were  not  valued 
in  themselves  so  much  as  counters  with  which  he 
played  the  grand  game  of  American  Independence. 
There  were  murmurs,  and  defiant  threats,  and  effigy- 
burnings,  and  riots,  and  processions  in  the  streets  of 
Boston ;  and  in  them  all  Adams  was  seldom  promi- 
nent or  even  visible  :  but  the  whole  world  knew  that 
his  finger  was  upon  the  springs  of  the  popular  indig- 
nation ;  they  heard  the  u])roar,  and  saw  the  wrathful 
countenances  of  outraged  freemen,  and  then  turned 
wonderingly  to  that  little  chamber  and  its  lonely  lamp 
where  the  patient  toiler  was  bent  to  his  midnight 
task. 

But  it  was  in  awakening  a  martyr  spirit  among  the 
people  that  Adams  showed  his  consummate  power. 
They  had  risen  up  in  wrath  against  their  oppressors  : 
could  they  be  taught  to  suffer  the  loss  of  all  things, 
rather  than  yield  their  liberties  ?  Here  his  own 
example  was  the  charm  which  drew  and  transfigured 
others.  They  knew  that  he  had  made  himself  poor  by 
his  devotion  to  freedom.     They  knew  that  once,  when 


SAMUEL   ADAMS.  493 

a  negro  slave  was  presented  him,  he  had  said,  "  A 
slave  cannot  live  in  my  house.  If  she  comes,  she 
must  be  free."  They  knew  of  the  price  set  on  his 
life,  and  of  the  secret  plots  to  carry  him  to  England 
to  be  tried  for  treason.  They  knew  that  he  alone, 
with  Hancock  whom  he  influenced,  was  excepted  in 
the  royal  pardon  on  condition  of  future  submission. 
They  knew  also  that  gold  had  been  offered  him  in  his 
povert}^,  and  the  honors  of  office,  and  even  a  patent  of 
nobility,  in  the  hope  of  drawing  him  from  his  high 
purpose  ;  and  that  to  the  bearer  of  these  overtures  he 
had  replied  with  flaming  scorn :  ''  Sir,  I  trust  I  have 
long  since  made  my  peace  with  the  King  of  kings. 
No  personal  consideration  shall  induce  me  to  abandon 
the  righteous  cause  of  my  country.  Tell  Governor 
Gage  it  is  the  advice  of  Samuel  Adams  to  him  no 
longer  to  insult  the  feelings  of  an  exasperated  peo- 
ple." Such  a  spirit  in  such  a  man  could  not  but  be 
contagious.  It  went  forth,  a  beam  of  enchanted  light, 
from  the  sacred  chamber,  touching  the  souls  of  the 
masses,  and  transfusing  them  with  a  heroic  readiness 
to  suffer  ;  so  that  they  could  look  without  a  murmur 
on  their  ships  rotting  at  the  wharves,  could  deny 
themselves  the  luxury  of  tea  and  the  use  of  foreign 
fabrics,  could  contemplate  with  an  air  of  triumph 
their  ruined  finances,  could  abstain  from  lamb's  flesh 
to  make  themselves  independent  of  the  European 
wool-grower. 

We  can  hardly  appreciate,  in  this  day  of  easy  com- 
munication, the  herculean  task  which  Adams  under- 
took, of  uniting  all  the  colonies  in  the  struggle  for  in- 
dependence. But  without  the  telegraph,  the  railroad, 
or  the  steam-vessel,  undaunted  by  the  isolated  condi- 
tion of  the  settlements,  and  the  vast  wilds  stretching 


494  ADDRESSES, 

between  them,  he  set  himself  cheerfully  to  the  work 
of  bringing  them  into  a  single  community.  His  suc- 
cess alone  proved  that  the  work  was  not  impossible. 
How  he  overcame  these  obstacles  is  more  than  we  can 
now  explain.  But  somehow,  by  some  invisible  chord, 
he  bound  the  hearts  of  Dickinson,  Franklin,  Jeffer- 
son, Gadsden,  and  of  a  host  of  other  leaders  like 
them,  to  his  own ;  and  through  their  writing  and 
speeches,  tremulous  with  the  life  that  throbbed  in 
him,  the  continent  at  length  vibrated  in  unison  to  his 
master-touch. 

Let  no  one  suspect,  because  Adams  chose  to  labor 
for  the  most  part  with  his  pen  in  retirement,  that  he 
lacked  the  courage  or  the  ability  to  assume  an  open 
leadership  when  the  exigencies  of  the  cause  required. 
He  was  willing  to  toil  unobserved,  and  let  others  stand 
conspicuous  in  the  public  eye ;  but  if  they  quailed  at 
any  time  before  the  onset  of  some  unusual  danger,  he 
was  straightway  found  in  the  forefront  of  the  con- 
flict, moving  like  a  tower  of  adamant  into  the  very 
face  of  the  enemy,  as  Sheridan,  by  rushing  forward 
at  the  battle  of  Cedar  Creek,  stopped  the  flight  of 
his  panting  legions  and  turned  defeat  into  victory. 
There  were  at  least  three  occasions  on  which  Adams 
thus  sprang  to  the  rescue  of  his  imperilled  cause, 
snatching  it  from  the  very  clutch  of  the  royal  hand, 
while  his  fellow-patriots  were  ready  to  give  up  all  for 
lost,  —  once  after  the  massacre  of  March  the  fifth. 
The  determination  of  the  king  to  press  through  his 
unjust  measures  by  military  power  had  borne  its  first 
bloody  fruits.  Eleven  citizens,  three  of  them  slain 
outright,  and  but  one  of  them  having  attempted  any 
disturbance,  had  been  struck  by  the  murderous  bullets 
of  the  troops  [in  King  Street].     A  terrible  crisis  had 


SAMUEL   ADAMS.  495 

come.  Either  the  cause  of  imlependence  must  be 
abandoned,  and  America  yielded  up  to  the  royal  dic- 
tation, or  this  outrage  nmst  be  avenged  and  its  repeti- 
tion be  rendered  impossible.  But  to  defy  the  colossal 
power  of  England,  —  this  was  the  step  at  which  the 
people  of  Boston  now  stood  aghast.  It  is  three 
o'clock,  the  evening  of  the  day  after  the  massacre 
[March  6].  The  citizens  of  the  town  are  crowded 
into  the  Old  South  Church  and  along  the  street  be- 
tween the  church  and  the  King's  Council  Chamber. 
A  committee,  which  has  been  to  Lieutenant-Governor 
Hutchinson  (who  acted  for  the  king)  to  represent  the 
feelings  of  the  inhabitants,  is  on  its  way  to  the  church, 
"  led  by  Samuel  Adams,  his  head  bared  in  reverence 
to  the  occasion,  and  his  gray  locks  flowing  in  the 
wind."  He  reports  to  the  eager  multitude  Hutchin- 
son's evasive  words ;  and  they,  now  fired  by  his  own 
invincible  ardor,  appoint  him  to  return  and  tell  the 
king's  functionary  that  the  two  regiments  must  leave 
town  at  once.  He  stands  again  in  the  presence  of  the 
Royal  Council.  The  representatives  of  the  civil  and 
military  power  of  England  are  before  him.  Around 
him,  dimly  seen  in  the  growing  dusk  of  twilight,  hang 
the  portraits  of  British  sovereigns  and  the  insignia 
of  empire.  He  calmly  announces  the  people's  ultima- 
tum. Hutchinson,  anxious  to  make  his  humiliation 
and  that  of  his  king  as  slight  as  possible,  says  that 
one  regiment  may  go,  and  he  will  write  to  Governor 
Gage  respecting  the  removal  of  the  other.  Then  it 
was  that  the  spirit  of  Samuel  Adams  rose  up  in  ma- 
jesty. "  Drawing  himself  to  his  full  height,  determi- 
nation flashing  from  his  clear  blue  eye,  he  stretched 
forth  his  arm,  '  which  slightly  shook  with  the  energy 
of  his  soul,'  and,  gazing  steadfastly  upon  the  lieuteu- 


496  ADDRESSES. 

ant-governor,  replied :  '  If  you  have  the  power  to  re- 
move one  regiment,  you  have  power  to  remove  both. 
It  is  at  your  peril  if  you  refuse.  The  meeting  is  com- 
posed of  three  thousand  people.  They  are  become 
impatient.  A  thousand  men  are  already  arrived  from 
the  neighborhood,  and  the  whole  country  is  in  motion. 
Night  is  approaching.  An  immediate  answer  is  de- 
manded. Both  regiments  or  none.'  "  ^  The  king's 
council  were  smitten  down  and  overawed  by  this  ter- 
rible storm.  In  one  moment  the  pride  of  Britain  had 
gone  crouching  and  cowering  at  the  feet  of  the  im- 
mortal patriot.  The  shadow  receded  not  a  whit,  but 
only  went  forward  with  a  mighty  stride  on  the  dial- 
plate  of  revolution.  And  the  two  regiments  slunk 
away  to  a  fort  in  Boston  harbor,  obeying  the  order  of 
Adams  so  precipitately  that  Lord  North  ever  after 
spoke  of  them  as  "  Sam  Adams's  Regiments." 

This,  however,  was  but  the  beginning  of  victories 
won  by  the  personal  valor  of  Adams.  Yielding  for 
once  the  assumed  right  to  enforce  her  will  at  the  point 
of  the  bayonet,  England  was  still  determined  to  collect 
a  revenue  from  the  colonies.  Would  they  stand  to 
their  non-importation  agreements,  and  refuse  at  all 
hazards  to  receive  her  duty-paying  merchandise  ?  was 
now  the  question.  This  sharp  issue  was  forced  upon 
them  by  dispatching  a  quantity  of  tea  to  Boston,  con- 
siofned  to  a  Mr.  Eotch.  Adams,  who  was  determined 
that  the  tea  should  not  be  landed,  feared  that  the  pop- 
ular resolution  might  give  way ;  and  again  he  put  him- 
self in  the  van  of  the  battle.  The  obnoxious  article 
is  in  the  harbor  ;  and  out  of  kindness  to  Mr.  Rotch 
he  is  told  that  he  may  save  it  by  sending  it  back  to 
England.  This  he  is  willing  to  do  ;  and  the  assem- 
1  WeU's  Life  of  Adams,  vol.  i.  p.  323. 


SAMUEL   ADAMS.  497 

bled  people  wait  quietly  at  Old  South  while  he  goes 
to  Hutehinsou  for  permission.  Adams,  knowing  that 
the  government  would  not  yield  but  was  resolved  to 
test  the  mettle  of  Boston,  had  quietly  made  ready  for 
the  exigency.  Let  me  give  the  rest  in  the  words  of 
Thomas  Carlyle :  "  At  three  no  Rotch,  nor  at  four, 
nor  at  five ;  miscellaneous,  plangent,  intermittent 
speech  instead,  in  tone  sorrowful  rather  than  indig- 
nant ;  at  a  quarter  to  six,  here  at  length  is  Rotch  : 
sun  is  long  set,  —  has  Rotch  a  clearance  or  not  ? 
Rotch  reports  at  large,  willing  to  be  questioned  and 
cross  -  questioned  :  '  Governor  absolutely  would  not ! 
My  Christian  friends,  what  could  I  or  can  I  do  ?  ' 
There  are  by  this  time  7,000  people  in  [and  about] 
Old  South  Meeting-house,  very  few  tallow  lights  in 
comparison.  Rotch' s  report  done,  the  chairman  (one 
Adams,  '  American  Cato ')  dissolves  the  sorrowful 
7,000  with  these  words :  '  This  meeting  declares  that 
it  can  do  nothing  more  to  save  the  country.'  Hark, 
however :  almost  on  the  instant,  in  front  of  the  Old 
South  Meeting  -  house,  '  a  terrific  war  -  whoop,  and 
about  fifty  IMohawk  Indians,'  —  with  whom  Adams 
seems  to  be  acquainted.  Forward,  without  noise,  to 
Griffin's  Wharf  ;  sentries  all  around  there  ;  a  great 
silence  in  the  neighborhood  ;  three  gangs  busy,  on  the 
dormant  tea-ships,  opening  their  chests  and  punctu- 
ally shaking  them  out  into  the  sea.  About  ten  P.  M. 
all  was  finished ;  three  hundred  and  forty-two  chests 
of  tea  flung  out  to  infuse  in  the  Atlantic  ;  the  fifty 
Mohawks  gone  like  a  dream  ;  and  Boston  sleeping 
more  silently  even  than  usual."  It  is  easy  to  see, 
througli  these,  the  quaint  sentences  of  the  old  hero- 
worshiper,  his  vast  admiration  for  Samuel  Adams. 
Here  certainly  was  a  marvelous  instance  of  strategy 


498  ADDRESSES. 

and  personal  power.  One  poor  gentleman,  by  leaving 
his  study  and  thus  stepping  to  the  front,  outwits  the 
king  and  the  ministers,  and  breathes  into  every  soul 
of  his  fellow-patriots  an  unconquerable  zeal  for  lib- 
erty. Soldiers  have  left  the  field,  tax-gatherers  are 
routed  ;  what  next  ? 

The  last  point  in  Adams's  programme  of  indepen- 
dence is  a  Continental  Congress.  And  it  was  in 
achieving  this,  if  I  mistake  not,  that  his  great  abilities 
had  their  finest  illustration.  For  this  the  popular 
mind,  under  his  influence,  had  long  been  ripening.  By 
prodigious  efforts,  —  corresponding  with  leading  men 
in  the  various  colonies,  persuading  them  to  appoint 
conmiittees  of  correspondence,  and  issuing  circular 
letters  from  the  Boston  Committee,  —  he  had,  after 
long  years  of  w^eary  toil,  made  this  concert  of  action 
practicable.  Some  of  the  other  colonies,  inspired  by 
him,  had  already  chosen  delegates  for  a  Continental 
Congress,  —  a  step  which  Massachusetts  found  great 
difficulty  in  taking,  owing  to  the  close  watch  kept  upon 
her  by  the  royal  agents.  She  was  the  natural  leader, 
and  without  her  the  Congress  would  prove  a  failure ; 
but  she  was  chained  and  guarded.  Her  General 
Court  could  not  meet  except  as  called  together  by 
Gage  ;  and  if  the  representatives  sought  to  contravene 
his  will,  he  by  his  mere  dictum  could  at  any  moment 
dissolve  the  court.  This  he  had  once  done,  just  as 
Adams  was  introducing  a  resolution  to  appoint  dele- 
gates. But  Gage  was  not  long  in  learning  that  he 
was  no  match  for  the  man  he  sought  to  put  down  in 
this  cowai'dly  manner.  The  court  is  assembled  at 
Salem.  Gage  has  a  spy  in  the  room  to  report  any 
obnoxious  doings.  The  crisis  has  come.  Adams  has 
conversed  with  the  members  privately,  and  is  sure  of 


SAMUEL   ADAMS.  499 

his  majority.  By  some  quiet  management,  the  door 
of  the  room  is  locked  and  the  key  in  Adams's  2)ocket. 
The  motion  to  appoint  the  delegates  is  now  made. 
There  is  one  wild  storm  of  excitement.  A  Tory  mem- 
ber feigns  sickness,  and,  being  let  out,  runs  to  tell 
Gage.  But  no  one  is  admitted.  The  governor  writes 
his  order,  and  hurries  off  his  messenger  with  it,  to  dis- 
solve the  court.  He  finds  a  throng  of  excited  people 
about  the  building,  but  calls  in  vain  for  the  door  to 
open.  Samuel  Adams  has  turned  a  key  upon  the 
whole  majesty  of  England  I  He  is  carrying  the  des- 
tinies of  a  nascent  republic  in  his  single  pocket.  And 
those  destinies  were  safe,  as  what  interest  of  human 
liberty  was  not  always  safe  in  his  keeping?  Incom- 
parable patriot !  Called  by  thine  enemies  Sam  the 
Maltster,  Samuel  the  Publican,  the  Chief  Incendiary, 
the  Psalm-singer,  verily  thou  wast  in  that  exigency, 
as  wise  men  are  glad  to  own,  the  Father  of  America, 
"  the  first  politician  in  the  world,"  the  last  of  the 
Puritans'  poKtical  parent,  the  Palinurus  of  the  Revo- 
lution. The  opening  of  that  door  was  to  England 
as  the  opening  of  the  Apocalyptic  seals.  Out  of  it 
moved  the  Continental  Congress,  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  the  War  of  the  Revolution,  American 
citizenship,  and  the  humiliation  of  Great  Britain ! 

The  public  life  of  Adams  may  be  said  to  have  now 
culminated.  No  other  man  of  that  day  was  an  object 
of  such  romantic  interest,  both  to  his  countrymen  and 
the  world.  Not  that  he  was  the  idol  of  the  people ; 
that  is  too  tame  a  word.  He  was  their  revered  Fatlier, 
to  whom  they  looked  with  the  trustfulness  of  dear 
children,  as  the  conqueror  of  England  and  the  deliv- 
erer of  America.  Being  about  to  start  for  Philadel- 
phia with  the  Massachusetts  delegation,  he  finds  at  his 


500  ADDRESSES. 

front  door  a  large  trunk  with  his  name  on  it,  contain- 
ing a  suit  of  clothes,  two  pairs  of  shoes,  a  set  of  silver 
shoe-buckles  and  of  gold  knee-buckles,  sleeve-buttons 
bearing  the  device  of  a  liberty-cap,  an  elegant  cocked 
hat,  a  gold-headed  cane,  a  red  cloak ;  in  short,  a  com- 
plete outfit  of  wearing  apparel  for  a  gentleman  of  that 
time.  And  this  was  but  one  of  the  almost  numberless 
attentions  which,  with  equal  delicacy,  were  showered 
upon  the  great  man  who  had  made  himself  poor  that 
he  might  enrich  his  country  and  his  race.  That  was 
a  memorable  day  when  Adams  with  his  three  asso- 
ciates set  out  from  Watertown  in  the  special  coach 
provided  for  them.  Strange  hopes  and  fears  were  in 
all  hearts,  and  manly  tears  stood  in  many  an  eye,  as 
they  grasped  the  hands  of  Warren,  Hancock,  the  two 
Coopers,  Paul  Revere,  and  Josiah  Quincy,  —  the  last 
an  especial  favorite  of  Adams,  so  young,  so  frail,  the 
hectic  flush  already  burning  on  his  cheek.  Ovations 
await  them  all  along  the  road.  They  are  welcomed 
into  cities  and  towns,  and  feasted,  and  escorted  on 
their  way.  Samuel  Adams  is  the  especial  hero,  —  he 
of  the  midnight  lamp  and  the  waking  wife,  who  had 
never  been  fifty  miles  from  Boston  before,  —  and  when 
the  coach  rolls  into  Philadelphia,  the  desire  to  see 
him  is  intense.  But  he  has  no  vanity,  no  vulgar  am- 
bition, to  be  inflamed  by  the  plaudits  of  the  throng. 
He  takes  his  seat  among  the  delegates,  —  the  same 
quiet,  patient,  far-sighted,  toilful  man  as  when  he  sat 
in  the  little  library  at  home.  The  precedence  nat- 
urally due  to  him,  he  yields  to  others.  If  the  more 
southern  colonies  will  come  into  the  plan  for  inde- 
pendence, they  may  have  the  honors ;  all  he  asks,  for 
himself  and  Massachusetts,  is  that  they  be  allowed  a 
full  share  of  the  work  and  sacrifice.     The  session  is 


SAMUEL   ADAMS.  501 

to  be  opened  with  prayer.  Who  shall  officiate? 
Adams  persuades  his  friends  to  yield  their  scruples, 
smothers  his  own  hereditary  dislike  of  the  English 
Church,  and  pleases  Virginia  and  South  Carolina  by 
getting  the  service  assigned  to  a  friend  of  theirs, 
Mr.  Duche.  As  the  Revolution  goes  forward,  it  be- 
comes necessary  to  choose  a  commander-in-chief  of  the 
Continental  armies.  Again  the  unselfish  wisdom  of 
Adams  comes  out.  He  sets  aside  his  friend  and  pro- 
tege Hancock,  who  is  eager  for  the  office,  and  secures 
the  election  of  Washington.  Few  persons  have  under- 
stood, however,  what  the  old  patriot  lost  by  this  step. 
It  cost  him  the  friendship  of  John  Hancock  and  the 
favor  of  Massachusetts,  where  Hancock,  owing  to  his 
vast  wealth,  had  great  influence.  The  noble  old  man 
found  that  even  Boston  could  not  follow  him  in  his 
career  of  unselfishness.  She  valued  her  claims  to 
distinction ;  could  not  imitate  him  by  giving  the  pre- 
cedence to  other  colonies  ;  felt  that  he  was  false  to  her 
by  keeping  her  in  the  background.  Hancock  never 
forgave  him.  He  ceased  to  be  the  popular  favorite  in 
his  own  colony.  Is  there  anything  in  personal  bi- 
ography more  sublime  ?  Behold  him,  —  turning  life- 
long friends  into  enemies,  blasting  all  his  political 
prospects,  going  under  a  cloud  from  which  he  was 
never  to  emerge  in  his  lifetime  ;  and  aU  that  he  might 
make  the  union  of  the  colonies  a  certainty,  that  their 
armies  might  be  under  a  wise  and  safe  leader,  that 
they  might  be  sure  of  independence  and  nationality, 
and  that  the  country  might  forever  rejoice  in  the  illus- 
trious name  of  Washington  I  It  was  a  beautiful  coin- 
cidence in  after-years,  while  Washington  was  visiting 
at  Cambridge,  and  Hancock  (then  governor)  refused 
to  wait  on  him,  that  Adams  was  sent  to  welcome  to 


602  ADDRESSES. 

tlie  hospitalities  of  the  commonwealth  the  man  for 
whom  he  had,  literally  almost,  "  suffered  the  loss  of 
all  things."  Whether  "  the  Father  of  his  Comitry  " 
ever  fitly  recognized  his  indebtedness  to  Adams  or  not, 
is  uncertain.  But  no  envious  word,  no  murmur,  no 
sigh  as  of  a  wounded  spirit,  was  ever  heard  from  the 
lips  of  the  devoted  patriot.  His  face  wore  its  wonted 
look  of  patient  cheerfulness.  Where  was  the  smallest 
pay  and  the  greatest  toil  in  the  public  service,  there 
he  was  willing  to  be ;  nor  did  he  seem  to  have  any 
wish  for  himself  but  to  be  worn  out  and  offered  up  in 
the  sacred  cause  of  liberty.  I  ought  to  add  here,  in 
justice  to  the  greatest  name,  perhaps,  in  the  annals  of 
the  church  to  which  I  minister,  that  Samuel  Adams 
was  an  earnest  and  consistent  Christian,  an  old-fash- 
ioned, orthodox  Puritan  Christian,  all  his  life.  One 
of  the  last  letters  he  ever  wrote  was  addressed  to 
Thomas  Paine,  and  remonstrated  with  that  scoffer 
against  the  publishing  of  his  infidel  books.  Adams 
had  no  faith  in  a  freedom  which  is  divorced  from 
Christianity.  On  the  contrary,  he  felt  that  freedom 
without  religion  is  but  a  mockery.  His  home  was  a 
Bethel.  In  it  there  was  family  worshi])  —  no  matter 
who  might  be  present,  or  how  great  the  stress  of  busi- 
ness-—  as  often  as  the  morning  and  evening  came. 
And  no  meal  was  ever  eaten  without  the  reverent 
blessing:  before  it.  The  Sabbath  found  him  in  his 
place  at  church  with  his  family,  —  always,  when  he 
could,  taking  part  in  the  singing,  in  which  exercise 
he  seemed  at  times  to  be  helped  by  a  special  inspira- 
tion. The  Christian  character  of  such  a  man  reveals 
the  utter  puerility  of  the  taunt  which  we  sometimes 
see  cast  at  pious  statesmanship.  It  reveals  the  pro- 
found source  of  Adams's  patriotism.     It  teaches  the 


SAMUEL  ADAM^.  503 

legislator  of  to-day,  that  he  never  rises  to  his  true 
dignity,  and  wields  all  the  influence  he  is  capable  of, 
till  he  rises  into  communion  with  God.  Such  patriot- 
ism could  not  have  its  reward  amid  the  strifes  of  mor- 
tal men.  Onl}^  in  the  serene  and  immortal  life,  which 
begins  when  the  blessed  wave  of  death  has  closed 
over  all,  could  the  transcendent  virtues  of  Adams  put 
forth  their  bloom.  He  is  no  exception  to  the  ever- 
lasting truth  of  the  great  words,  "  He  that  humbleth 
himself  shall  be  exalted,  and  whoso  loseth  his  life 
shall  find  it."  It  was  sown  in  weakness ;  it  is  rising 
in  power.  It  was  sown  without  honor  from  men  ;  it  is 
rising  to  eternal  and  universal  renown.  There  was 
beseeming  beauty  in  the  lines  applied  to  him  at  his 
death :  — 

"  Ne'er  to  those  chambers  where  the  mig-hty  rest, 
Siiice  their  foundation,  came  a  nobler  g-aest ; 
Nor  e'er  was  to  the  bowers  of  bliss  conveyed 
A  fairer  spirit,  or  more  welcome  shade." 

And  future  generations  will  see  more  and  more  of 
the  depths  of  simple  truth  in  the  lines  beneath  a  pic- 
ture of  him  made  while  he  was  in  the  zenith  of  his 
career : — 

"  When  haughty  lords,  impressed  with  proud  disdain, 
Spurned  at  the  virtue  which  rejects  their  chain ; 
Heard  with  a  tyrant  scorn  our  rights  implored  ; 
And  when  we  sued  for  justice  sent  the  sword,  — 
Lo  I   Adams  rose,  in  warfare  nobly  tried  ; 
His  country's  saviour,  father,  shield,  and  guide: 
Urged  by  her  wrongs,  he  waged  the  glorious  strife. 
Nor  paused  to  waste  a  coward  thought  on  life." 

There  are  lessons  in  the  career  of  Samuel  Adams 
which  ought  not  to  be  lost  on  our  public  men  of  this 
generation :  — 

1.  They  should  learn  from  him  that  the  adequate 
policy  is  the  only  one  to  succeed.  There  were,  in  his 
day,  men  who  believed  in   half-way  measures  as  a 


504  A  DDRESSES. 

remedy  for  colonial  wrongs,  and  who  advocated  such 
measures  till  the  march  of  events  left  them  among 
the  enemies  of  their  country.  But  Adams,  foresee- 
ing independence  to  be  the  only  basis  of  a  lasting 
settlement,  dared,  against  the  remonstrances  of  timid 
friends,  to  toil  for  it  till  the  result  proved  his  far-see- 
ing wisdom.  So,  in  our  day,  there  are  men  who  plead 
for  temporary  expedients,  hoping  thereby  to  pacify 
a  distracted  Union.  It  is  strange  that  they  should 
so  fail  in  their  diagnosis,  or  that  they  should  expect 
superficial  remedies  to  cure  so  inveterate  a  disease. 
As  history  has  proved  Adams's  treatment  to  have  been 
wisest  for  what  was  then  suffered,  so  it  will  yet  be 
proved  that  the  men  laboring  for  equality  of  rights 
throughout  this  Union,  and  insisting  on  them  as  pre- 
liminary to  a  final  settlement  of  our  troubles,  are  our 
wisest  and  safest  leaders.  The  through  policy  is  best. 
We  shall  learn,  as  one  compromise  after  another  fails, 
that  no  other  policy  is  adequate.  Let  us  hope  that 
the  patient  has  vitality  enough  to  hold  out,  through  all 
the  foolish  experimenting  now  going  on,  till  that  sov- 
ereign remedy  is  applied. 

2.  The  career  of  Adams  should  teach  our  public 
men  to  heed  carefully  the  signs  of  the  times.  Those 
signs  are  the  striking  events,  occurring  in  a  nation's 
onward  march,  indicating  the  state  of  public  senti- 
ment, —  the  pulse-beats  of  the  popular  heart.  Adams 
never  blundered  here.  He  rode  on  the  crest  of  the 
wave,  and  never  sought  with  yesterday's  policy  to 
control  the  spirit  of  to-day.  When  he  saw  the  ap- 
plause which  everywhere  greeted  Otis's  speech  against 
Writs  of  Assistance,  he  knew  it  was  idle  any  longer 
to  expect  reconciliation  with  England.  When  the 
Stamp  Act  was  repealed  at  the  demand  of  the  colo- 


SAMUEL  ADAMS.  505 

nists,  he  saw  that  it  had  become  safe  to  resist  the  Brit- 
ish ministry.  After  the  massacre  in  King  Street,  he 
dared  to  rely  on  the  courage  of  his  countrymen.  And 
when  Captain  Parker's  men  were  shot  down  at  Lex- 
ington, understanding  that  it  meant  independence  and 
union,  he  exclaimed,  "  What  a  glorious  morning  is 
this  !  "  He  so  valued  events  of  this  kind,  that  he  urged 
the  keeping  of  their  anniversaries,  thereby  lifting  the 
free  sentiment  of  the  country  constantly  to  a  higher 
level.  Now,  had  he  pursued  his  object  still  as  though 
nothing  had  happened,  after  these  mighty  changes  of 
public  sentiment,  he  would  have  fallen  under  foot  and 
been  trampled  down  by  an  advancing  people.  This 
nation  has  a  new  heart  to-day,  throbbing  with  the 
spirit  of  impartial  liberty ;  and  only  those  who,  like 
"  the  first  politician  in  the  world,"  discern  the  popular 
pulse,  and  govern  themselves  accordingly,  may  hope 
to  escape  our  scorn,  and  to  share  in  the  victory  which 
awaits  us. 

3.  The  story  of  Adams  should  teach  the  young  men 
of  America  that  there  is  a  patriotism  more  to  be  de- 
sired than  all  preferments  or  honors  of  office.  Adams 
could  have  lived  in  affluence,  and  amid  the  splendors 
of  the  English  court,  had  he  chosen  to  go  over  to  the 
side  of  royalty.  But  if  he  had  ambition,  it  was  cru- 
cified. Love  of  country  overcame  the  temptation  of 
riches,  and  made  poverty  welcome.  What  ignominy 
would  have  settled  on  his  name  had  he  been  more 
ambitious  and  less  patriotic  !  His  reward,  though  late 
in  coming,  is  vast  and  glorious.  He  has  robbed  the 
grave  of  its  oblivion,  and  lives  on,  —  an  example  and 
inspiration  to  the  American  patriot.  How  short-lived 
the  memory  of  those  who  are  devoted  to  the  fruits  of 
party  success !    Such  ambition,  if  it  deserves  so  gentle 


506  ADDRESSES. 

a  name,  is  the  loathsome  ulcer  of  politics.  Would 
you  escape  this  cori'U23tion,  and  be  had  in  honorable 
remembrance  ?  then  ask  simply  that  you  may  serve, 
and  not  that  you  may  be  rewarded.  Remember  him 
v/hose  whole  life  was  given  to  his  country ;  who  stood 
fast  in  the  place  which  demanded  most  and  paid  least ; 
who,  without  a  murmur,  saw  leader  after  leader  chosen 
over  his  own  head  —  men  whom  he  had  trained  and 
introduced  to  the  public.  Something  better  was  in 
store  for  him.  His  grand  life,  unstained  by  corrup- 
tion, unclouded  by  the  insignia  of  office,  was  to  shine 
as  a  star  in  the  high  firmament  of  patriotism.  We 
know  men  whom  political  office  has  but  gibbeted  in 
everlasting  infamy ;  and  we  know  other  men  who, 
without  aspiring  to  political  eminence,  and  spurning 
the  base  rewards  of  party,  are  laying  up  for  them- 
selves a  name  which  shall  yet  draw  to  it  the  reverent 
gaze  of  their  country  and  the  world.  You  must  ex- 
pect in  politics  that,  like  "  the  Father  of  America," 
you  will  see  new  converts  riding  over  tried  men  in 
political  conventions.  It  has  always  been  so,  nor  is 
there  yet  much  sign  of  change.  Therefore  let  patri- 
otism, and  devotion  to  the  right,  be  your  inspiration. 
How  much  safer,  and  how  vastly  more  glorious,  to 
tread  in  the  footsteps  of  Adams  —  devoted  to  princi- 
ple for  the  sake  of  principle  —  than  to  venture  among 
the  bogs  and  pitfalls  of  a  vulgar  ambition  !  The  prize 
of  victory  in  the  arena  of  politics  is  the  same  as  every- 
where else.  If  you  would  win  the  greater  prize,  you 
must  not  be  ambitious  of  the  less.  If  you  would  go 
in  for  immortality,  you  must  not  go  in  for  spoils. 
1  Words  of  surprise,  and  strong  words  of  rejDroach, 

^  Written  in  1866,  before  any  statue  was  erected  to  Adams  in  the 
country. 


SAMUEL   ADAMS.  507 

are  uttered  from  time  to  time,  because  tlie  country  as 
yet  contains  no  monument  to  Samuel  Adams.  Not 
many  persons  —  a  few  reverent  pilgrims  —  know 
where  his  ashes  repose.  In  this  respect  he  recalls  the 
mighty  Hebrew  lawgiver,  of  whom  Bryant  so  grandly 
sings :  — 

"  When  he,  who  from  the  scourge  of  wrong 

Aroused  the  chosen  tribes  to  fly, 
Saw  the  fair  region  promised  long, 

And  bowed  him  on  the  hills  to  die, 
God  made  his  grave  to  men  unknown, 

Where  Moab's  rocks  a  vale  infold, 
And  laid  the  aged  seer  alone 

To  slumber  while  the  woi'ld  grows  old." 

It  is  doubtful  if  any  memorial,  such  as  might  destroy 
this  resemblance  to  the  ancient  prophet,  could  add  to 
the  renown  of  our  "pohtical  parent."  It  would  be 
imjDossible  to  present  a  symbol  of  his  consummate 
virtues  under  any  artistic  form.  Equestrian  statues, 
memorial  halls,  and  figures  grouped  in  marble  and 
bronze,  may  image  to  us  a  heroism  less  fundamental 
and  more  confined  than  his  ;  but  what  lines  of  beauty 
or  of  majesty  shall  enclose  a  life  which  made  itself 
the  principle  and  the  animating  soul  of  a  great  na- 
tion ?  The  only  fit  monmnent  to  such  a  life  is  that 
which  the  friends  of  freedom  are  unconsciously  build- 
ing, —  a  vast  temple  of  republicanism,  its  base  the 
broad  continent,  and  its  dome  the  bending  heavens ; 
equal  laws  inscribed  all  over  its  living  walls,  and  its 
worship  the  multitudinous  activities  of  a  just  and 
brave  and  Christian  people. 


JOHN  BROWN.i 

A  FEW  years  ago,  I  came  before  you  to  speak  for 
John  Brown  in  the  name  of  charity  ;  to-night  I  am 
here  at  your  call  to  speak  his  triumph.  Then  it  was 
not  thought  prudent  to  stand  forth  in  his  defense  ; 
now  no  wise  man  wishes  to  be  known  as  his  enemy : 
for  what  he  then  sowed  in  weakness  has  been  raised 
in  power,  and  his  mortal  has  put  on  immortality. 

I  can  bring  no  fact  concerning  John  Brown  with 
which  you  are  not  already  familiar  ;  I  can  utter  no 
eulogy  upon  him  which  shall  do  justice  to  your  pres- 
ent impressions. 

Our  theme  opens  naturally  in  the  following  order  : 
first,  the  work  which  he  did  ;  secondly,  how  he  was 
made  ready  for  it;  and  thirdly,  the  manner  of  his 
doing  it. 

I.  The  providential  work  of  John  Brown  —  that 
which  makes  his  name  historic  and  immortal  —  con- 
sisted in  rallying  the  friends  of  liberty  to  open  and 
immediate  encounter  with  Slavery.  He  sounded  the 
charge  to  final  and  victorious  battle.  It  was  his  hand 
that  took  the  free  sentiment  of  the  country  as  a 
thunderbolt  and  hurled  it  with  crushing  effect  on  the 
head  of  the  Southern  idol.  To  show  you  that  I  do  not 
take  this  point  without  due  cause,  let  us  go  back  a 
little. 

On  the  one  hand  was  Slavery,  —  from  the  very 
necessity  of  its  nature  a  mortal  foe  to  the  republic. 

^  Lecture  delivered  in  Music  Hall,  Boston,  December  3,  1867. 


JOHN  BROWN.  509 

For  three  generations  tKat  enemy  had  been  growing 
strong  and  with  consummate  art  intrenching  its  posi- 
tion. Weak  at  first,  and  admitted  to  be  an  evil,  it 
was  abhorred  of  all,  —  even  those  most  nearly  related 
to  it.  What  first  blunted  this  keen  Southern  con- 
science, and  started  a  spirit  of  dalliance  elsewhere, 
was  the  sudden  importance  of  the  cotton  culture. 
The  manufacturer  was  growing  rich  on  this  product, 
and  was  enriching  the  planter  who  furnished  it.  This 
mutual  interest  displaced  conscience,  and  gave  us  on 
the  one  side  compromise,  on  the  other  side  the  slave- 
power.  It  became  the  height  of  Southern  ambition  to 
own  more  negroes  to  raise  more  cotton  to  get  more 
money  to  buy  more  negroes.  Under  the  specious 
plea  of  State  Rights,  Slavery  was  declared  unassaila- 
ble by  the  general  government,  even  while  stealthily 
plotting  to  bring  that  government  under  its  control. 
The  more  it  was  let  alone,  the  bolder  it  became. 
Finding  its  smaller  demands  met,  it  dared  to  bring 
greater,  until  at  last  it  was  installed  in  the  highest 
seats  of  authority.  The  sanctions  of  law,  the  blan- 
dishments of  wealth,  and  the  charms  of  polite  culture 
girded  it  about.  We  came  to  present  the  monstrous 
spectacle  of  a  free  nation  ruled  by  a  slave-holding  oli- 
garchy. And  never  was  despotism  seemingly  more 
thoroughly  intrenched.  The  venomous  reptile  glared 
and  brandished  its  forked  tongue  with  perfect  impu- 
nity. "  Touch  me  not !  "  was  the  legend  written  on  its 
front,  and  the  approach  of  any  disturbing  foot  started 
its  deadly  rattle. 

On  the  other  hand,  side  by  side  with  this  gradual 
ascent  of  slavery  to  supreme  power,  the  sentiment  of 
liberty  had  been  rising  and  intensifying  throughout 
the  North.     We  had  but  few  men  who  attempted  to 


510  ADDRESSES. 

justify  slavery  on  moral  grounds.  More  generally, 
our  people  looked  upon  it  as  a  Providential  evil  and 
mystery ;  or,  while  condemning  it,  they  refused  to  in- 
terfere with  it,  on  grounds  of  expediency  and  consti- 
tutional obligation.  The  feeling  of  dislike  was  every- 
where, from  out-speaking  abolitionism  down  to  those 
who  amiabty  doubted  and  "waited  for  God's  time." 
And  these  latter,  lifted  by  the  lever  of  events,  were 
rising  steadily,  till  at  last  our  nation  became  a  house 
divided  against  itself.  Every  success  of  slavery  on  the 
one  side  intensified  the  sentiment  of  freedom  on  the 
other.  It  sowed  the  wind  only  to  reap  the  whirlwind, 
found  each  new  device  returning  to  plague  the  inven- 
tor. The  wiping  out  of  the  Missouri  line  made  thou- 
sands of  Abolitionists.  Torrey  and  Lovejoy,  a  hand- 
ful of  corn  in  the  earth,  became  as  the  cedars  of 
Lebanon.  There  was  more  love  of  liberty  after  the 
annexation  of  slaveholding  Texas  than  ever  before. 
The  army  which  marched  from  the  Rio  Grande  to 
Mexico,  under  Taylor  and  Scott,  made  anti-slavery 
men  here  faster  than  it  slew  Mexicans  there.  The 
Fugitive  Slave  Law  caused  millions  to  spring  to  their 
feet,  and  swear  that  Slavery  itself  should  be  the  fu- 
gitive and  vagabond.  And  the  Dred  Scott  decision, 
which  was  to  give  the  kingdom  to  the  conspiring  oli- 
garchy, made  the  whole  world  cry  out  for  vengeance. 

Thus  stood  the  two  hostile  powers,  —  on  that  side 
the  South,  haughty  and  aggressive  ;  on  this  side  the 
North,  indignant  but  not  seeing  how  to  strike.  The 
wolf  which  secretly  preyed  on  our  flocks  lay  deep  in 
its  lair  ;  and  a  Putnam  was  wanted  to  enter  and  drag 
the  monster  forth.  The  instincts  of  a  free  people 
had  gathered,  like  heaped-up  waters,  above  the  bold 
iniquity :  who  would  go  in  and  unlock  the  gates,  that 


JOHN  BROWN.  611 

they  might  rush  through  and  sweep  it  away  ?  Truth 
with  Ithuriel  spear  had  touched  the  enemy,  and  re- 
duced him  to  his  proper  ugliness  ;  but  men  looked  in 
vain  for  any  seed  of  woman  that  should  bruise  his 
head.  A  deep  gulf  lay  between  the  criminal  and  the 
avenger,  and  none  of  us  could  tell  how  we  might  cross 
it.  What  we  needed,  what  Liberty  needed,  what  the 
world  needed,  was  one  who  could  bridge  this  chasm  ; 
who  had  power  to  make  his  own  life  a  path,  over 
which  we  might  advance  till  the  foe  should  be  in 
range  of  our  weapons.  The  exigency  called  for  a  man 
brave  enough  and  devoted  enough  to  rush  forward 
through  compromise  and  legal  enactment,  gathering 
the  hostile  spears  into  his  own  bosom,  till  a  path 
should  be  cleared  for  the  soldiers  of  freedom.  The 
disguise  of  law  must  be  stripped  off.  The  monster 
must  be  forced  to  show  his  true  nature.  Life  must 
be  nobly  sacrificed,  or  our  bolts  would  never  smite 
down  the  hideous  wickedness. 

Here  was  the  work  of  John  Browai.  For  this  he 
was  the  Lord's  chosen.  God  is  not  mocked.  His 
quiver  is  full  of  arrows.  He  foresees  His  own  ends, 
and  makes  ready  His  own  instruments.  Where  is 
the  altar  and  the  wood,  there  also  He  provides  the 
lamb  for  the  sacrifice.  In  the  grand  crisis  that  had 
now  come,  the  man  of  His  right  hand  is  a  simple  far- 
mer keeping  his  sheep  in  the  wilderness.  He  takes 
this  poor  man  out  of  the  woods,  and  with  him  breaks 
the  spell  that  is  on  Northern  vengeance  :  counts  him 
worthy  to  suffer  ;  teaches  him,  by  His  own  secret 
inspirations,  how  to  let  loose  the  lightnings  of  an  out- 
raged civilization. 

I  know  you  will  tell  me  it  was  Sumter  that  fired 
the  Northern  heart.     But  Sumter  was  the  reverbera- 


512  ADDRESSES. 

tion  o£  Harper's  Ferry.  The  opening  of  the  war  of 
emancipation,  hereafter  in  history,  will  date,  not  from 
Anderson's  defense  of  a  Southern  fort,  but  from  John 
Brown's  martyrdom  on  a  Southern  scaffold.  Do  I  re- 
member how  you  sprang  to  arms  when  the  cannons' 
boom  came  rolling  northward  from  Charleston  har- 
bor ?  Oh,  yes  !  who  that  saw  the  day  can  ever  forget 
it  ?  But  1  remember,  too,  when  you  marched  forth  to 
overwhelm  the  uprising  treason,  it  was  not  the  Flag 
that  you  sung,  nor  the  Union  and  Constitution,  but 
the  soul  of  Old  John  Brown.  That  was  the  music  to 
which  you  kept  step  all  your  weary  way  to  the  front ; 
which  thrilled  you  in  the  awful  shock  of  battle  ;  which 
you  poured  out  j)laintively  on  the  night  air  while  the 
stars  looked  down  on  your  dying  comrades.  Argue 
as  we  may,  and  say  what  we  will,  the  final  verdict  of 
history  will  be,  that  John  Brown  on  a  Virginia  gallows 
was  the  spark  which  lit  the  train,  which  fired  the 
mine,  which  blew  to  atoms  the  institution  of  American 
Slavery  ! 

II.  Such  was  the  work  —  the  awful  work  of  self- 
devotion  even  unto  death  —  for  which  humanity 
waited,  while  the  souls  under  the  altar  were  crying, 
"  O  Lord,  how  long  I  "  And  this  work  is  the  standard 
by  which  to  try  the  character  of  John  Brown.  It  is 
unfair  and  impertinent  to  judge  him  by  any  other 
test.  The  question  is  not,  Was  he  a  gentleman  in  the 
conventional  sense ;  was  he  nicely  observant  of  the 
rules  of  polite  society ;  was  he  graceful  and  refined 
after  the  similitude  of  a  man  of  the  world  ?  but,  Was 
he  adapted  to  his  Providential  work,  —  tlie  sublimest 
work  of  the  century  ?  Tried  by  this  test,  he  can  re- 
ceive but  one  verdict :  God  made  him  just  what  he 
needed  to  be  to  fulfill  his  God-appointed  mission. 


JOHN  BROWN.  513 

1.  First,  the  ancestral  spirit  in  liim  was  marvel- 
ously  suited  to  his  mission.  He  came  of  a  heroic 
stock,  —  a  race  of  willing  sufferers  for  truth,  of  whom 
the  world  was  not  worthy.  He  was  the  sixth  in  de- 
scent from  Peter  Brown,  one  of  the  immortal  company 
of  the  Mayflower.  His  mother  was  the  child  of  a 
Revolutionary  officer,  and  his  father's  father  died 
struggling  for  American  independence.  He  was  duly 
proud  of  this  family  record,  and  cherished  in  himself 
the  spirit  of  his  ancestors.  That  spirit  was  not  only 
martial,  but  religious  and  conscientious.  His  fathers 
had  ever  stood  on  the  side  of  truth  and  right.  For 
this  good  cause  the  exile  to  Plymouth,  the  unstorled 
hardships  in  primeval  wilds,  the  laying  down  of  life 
in  resistance  to  Britain.  Such  was  the  succession  into 
which  John  Brown  came.  He  felt  the  glow  of  this 
ancestral  fire.  He  was  resolved  that  his  name  should 
be  worthy  to  be  carved  on  the  gravestone  where  he 
had  put  the  names  of  his  fathers.  Perhaps  he 
dreamed,  perhaps  he  did  not,  that  he  should  make 
that  stone  monumental  in  the  annals  of  liberty. 

2.  John  Brown  had  that  peculiar  moral  organiza- 
tion of  which  mart}TS  are  made.  The  marked  feature 
in  him  was  net  the  sentimental  or  the  intellectual,  but 
the  ethical.  It  did  not  occur  to  him  ever  to  ask  what 
is  expedient,  what  is  safe,  but  what  is  right.  The 
beauty  that  charmed  him  was  moral  beauty,  the  only 
greatness  he  respected  moral  greatness,  the  courage 
he  most  admired  and  coveted  moral  courage.  His 
anger  was  the  \NTath  of  justice ;  he  could  love  noth- 
ing that  was  not  essentially  good ;  he  hated  every- 
thino:  that  failed  to  stand  before  conscience.  Dutv 
was  the  angel  that  went  before  him.  Her  approval 
was  his  inspiration  ;  to  her  he  would  be  true,  though 


514  ADDRESSES. 

false  to  all  other  claims ;  her  divine  form  he  would 
follow,  not  counting  his  life  dear,  and  over  any  law, 
custom,  or  amenity  which  did  not  pay  her  supreme 
homage.  He  did  not  speak  of  men  as  strong  or  weak, 
but  as  good  or  bad  ;  did  not  look  at  society  as  refined 
or  rude,  but  as  pure  or  corrupt ;  did  not  say  of  actions 
they  are  splendid  or  commonplace,  but  they  are  right 
or  wrong.  The  one  long  yearning  of  his  nature  was, 
not  to  be  amiable  and  loved,  but  to  be  sternly  just. 
The  God  he  served  was  a  consuming  fire  to  the 
wicked,  and  to  the  down-trodden  very  pitiful  and  of 
tender  mercy.  Such  a  man  could  do  but  one  thing 
in  the  presence  of  a  mighty  wrong.  He  must  smite 
with  all  the  power  God  had  given,  —  must  smite  unto 
death,  if  by  any  means  he  can  ;  and  nothing  is  dear 
to  him  —  name,  friends,  or  life  —  which  may  nerve  his 
arm  for  the  fated  blow. 

3.  The  religious  faith  of  John  Brown  helped  pre- 
pare him  for  his  work.  It  is  faith  that  removes 
mountains.  Unbelief  has  no  "  book  of  martyrs,"  no 
"  lives  of  the  saints."  To  doubt  is  to  be  weak ;  only 
as  we  believe  are  we  strong.  No  misgiving  as  to  the 
truth  of  his  religion  ever  disturbed  the  soul  of  John 
Brown.  He  accepted  the  entire  Bible,  —  Pentateuch, 
Apocalypse,  and  all,  —  and  grieved  for  those  who  w^ere 
not  upborne  by  the  like  precious  faith.  I  shall  never 
forget  the  wide-open  eyes  with  which  a  conservative 
friend  gazed  on  me  when  I  told  him  that  a  more  de- 
voted Christian  than  John  Brown  never  lived ;  and 
that,  too,  as  judged  by  the  old-fashioned,  Puritanic 
standard.  How  strange  it  will  sound  in  future  ages, 
that  men  claiming  to  live  by  the  Bible  cried,  "  Away 
with  him,  crucify  him  !  "  at  this  aged  believer,  who 
knew    the    Bible    almost    by   heart,   whose    fervent 


JOHN  BROWN.  515 

prayers  went  up  to  God  continually,  whose  Sabbaths 
were  sacredly  given  to  spiritual  things,  whose  children 
were  carefully  nurtured  in  the  ancestral  faith  and 
piety,  whose  daily  talk  was  strewn  thick  with  Scrip- 
ture texts,  who  promptly  rebuked  any  irreverence  or 
ungodliness  that  met  him,  whose  letters  are  models  of 
faithful  and  tender  religious  counsel !  If  ever  any 
life  has  been  hid  with  Christ  in  God,  it  was  John 
Brown's.  In  that  holy  retirement,  praying  and  study- 
ing for  himself,  the  light  dawned  upon  his  mind  ;  and 
in  that  divine  light  he  saw  the  path  he  ought  to  tread. 
There,  hardly  remembering  that  there  were  such  things 
as  congresses,  and  judges,  and  sheriiffs,  he  learned 
what  he  owed  to  his  country,  to  humanity,  and  to 
his  God.  He  knelt  at  the  foot  of  the  divine  throne, 
and  human  tribunals  were  to  him  as  though  they  were 
not.  They  might  stand  in  his  way,  and  he  be  dashed 
in  pieces  against  them  ;  but  the  orbit  of  his  will  was 
fixed  and  changeless.  He  was  a  flaming  arrow  shot 
from  the  bow  of  Justice,  —  which  turned  neither  this 
way  nor  that  way,  but  went  right  on  till  it  was 
quenched  in  the  blood  of  her  enemies. 

4.  John  Brown  was  shaped  for  his  sacrificial  work 
by  the  simple  style  of  living  in  which  he  was  bred 
and  which  he  never  forsook.  All  his  ideas  as  to  the 
family  and  society  were  primitive.  He  was  the  father 
of  twenty-one  children.  At  home  and  among  friends, 
he  recalled  the  godly  Puritan  of  Colonial  times.  His 
garments  had  not  the  perfume  of  city  parlors  on 
them.  He  knew  nothing  of  the  gayeties  of  life.  If 
he  saw  a  picture  or  statue,  or  other  costly  ornament, 
in  a  drawing-room,  he  would  straightway  think  how 
many  slaves  it  might  buy  from  bondage.  He  could 
not  bear  to  lodge  in  a  great  hotel,  where  the  lavish 


516  ADDRESSES. 

display  pained  him,  but  chose  rather  to  be  with  far- 
mers and  drovers  at  the  plain  tavern.  God  merci- 
fully kept  him  poor.  He  knew  not  the  excitement  of 
handling  vast  sums ;  to  him  a  fifty-dollar  note  looked 
large.  He  never  asked  how  much  comfort,  culture,  or 
luxury  will  this  buy,  but  how  much  can  I  make  it  do 
for  them  that  are  in  bonds.  The  wild-rose  of  the  pas- 
tures was  not  sweeter  than  his  simplicity ;  the  moun- 
tain spring  under  the  mossy  crag,  not  purer  than  his 
honest  thought.  What  he  felt  and  purposed  shone 
out  through  his  speech  as  clear  as  the  stars  beneath 
which  he  watched  his  flocks.  He  was  so  near  to  Na- 
ture as  to  seem  a  part  of  her,  —  rugged,  simple,  true 
and  grand  ;  a  soul  whose  fit  attendants  were  the  wild- 
flower,  the  mountain,  the  cataract,  the  fathomless  sky, 
and  the  pathless  woods.  To  such  it  is  that  God 
speaks,  and  they  dare  do  anything  but  disobey  His 
voice.  In  reply  to  all  cautions  coming  from  any 
human  source,  John  Brown  could  only  say  :  — 

"  Shall  not  the  Fashioner  command  His  work  ? 

And  who  am  I,  that,  if  He  whisper,  '  Rise, 

Go  forth  upon  mine  errand,'  should  reply, 
*  Lord  God,  I  love  the  woman  and  her  sons,  — 

I  love  not  scorning- :  I  beseech  thee,  God, 

Have  me  excused.'  " 

5.  Not  yet,  however,  was  the  preparation  complete. 
This  great  soul,  smooth  as  the  sea  in  a  calm,  must  be 
aroused.  The  tempest  must  come  down  upon  it  and 
call  forth  its  hidden  wrath,  or  the  pirate  ship  sailing 
on  in  defiance  of  Heaven  will  not  be  swallowed  up. 
Hence  the  experiences  in  Kansas,  where  the  slave- 
power  broke  through  all  constitutional  restraints  and 
framed  iniquity  into  law.  If  any  respect  for  lower- 
law  enactments  had  remained  with  John  Brown  thus 
far,  it  forsook  him  now.     The  lesson  which  he  was 


JOHN  BROWN.  617 

not  slow  to  learn,  was  set  liim  by  the  invaders  from 
Missouri.  Should  they  trample  down  in  blood  the 
Free  State  settlers,  and  he  be  held  back  by  the  lease 
of  compromise  ?  He  would  slip  that  rotten  noose. 
Surely  no  law  could  bind  him  to  fight  with  rose-water 
those  who  came  against  him  brandishing  clubs  and 
torches.  The  sacred  rights  of  human  nature  swept 
away  the  cobwebs  of  legislation.  The  enemies  of  man 
had  taken  the  sword,  and  they  should  feel  the  edge  of 
the  sword.  The  smoke  of  his  burning  cabin  and  the 
blood  of  his  slaughtered  sons  told  him  that  the  jus- 
tice which  the  times  needed  was  not  the  slow-footed 
goddess  whom  the  criminal  escapes,  but  that  which  is 
swift  and  smites  home.  If  ever  anybody  had  a  right 
to  despise  civil  law  as  a  means  of  redress,  that  man 
was  John  Brown.  He  beheld  the  bloody  riot  of  op- 
pression, and  there  was  none  to  deliver  the  innocent ; 
and  therefore  he  cried  out,  "  Boys,  the  Lord  will  aid 
us !  "  and  he  shoved  his  ramrod  down ;  .  .  .  and  far 
away,  where  Kansas'  grains  wave,  tinged  with  their 
blood,  will  the  column  rise  !  The  poet's  song  and 
History's  page  will  the  deeds  prolong  of  John  of 
Osawatomie,  the  martyr  to  Truth  and  Right.  Bat 
great  as  were  the  deeds  there  done,  a  greater  was 
coming.  That  lawless  border  war  was  a  part  of  the 
needed  preparation,  —  God's  mysterious  school  in 
which  He  was  training  His  serv^ant  to  trust  in  Him- 
self alone,  and  strike  the  blow  decreed  from  eternity 
at  His  biddinc:.  Henceforth  it  was  John  Brown 
against  Slavery  though  hell  should  gape  before  him  ; 
and  "  the  sword  of  the  Lord  and  of  Gideon  "  was  his 
manifesto.  He  chose  his  ground,  he  took  counsel, 
sought  help,  prayed,  and  moved  forward.  There  was 
a  voice  behind  him  which  said,  ''This  is  the  way," 


518  ADDRESSES. 

anJ  lie  dared  not  refuse  to  walk  in  it.  A  necessity 
was  laid  on  liini.  The  hand  of  destiny  had  launched 
him  forth.  He  could  no  more  turn  aside  from  that 
path  than  a  planet  from  its  orbit.  When  he  stood  on 
the  heights  overlooking  Harper's  Ferry,  planning  the 
deed  for  which  he  had  waited  twenty  years,  he  might 
have  said,  with  Luther  before  the  Imperial  Diet, 
"  Here  I  stand ;  I  cannot  do  otherwise ;  God  help 
me.     Amen." 

III.  And  now  let  us  stand  on  those  same  heights 
while  he  goes  down  into  the  valley  of  death  to  finish 
the  work  given  him  to  do.  Let  us  see  how  he  led 
captivity  captive ;  how  he  laid  down  his  life,  that  he 
might  give  life  to  a  nation  and  a  race  of  men. 

Perhaps  nothing  excited  more  ridicule  at  the  time 
than  John  Brown's  plan  for  a  provisional  government 
found  among  his  papers.  I  have  read  that  document 
with  care,  and  find  its  essential  features  marvelously 
prophetic.  It  anticipates  mainly  the  reconstruction 
theory  of  to-day.  His  prophetic  genius,  in  which  the 
free  spirit  of  the  age  was  incarnate,  stood  at  the  goal 
toward  which  our  statesmen  are  plodding  on,  "  with 
manifold  motions  making  little  speed." 

We  need  not  attempt  to  justify  his  attack  at  Har- 
per's Ferry,  since  he  himself  condemned  it.  We  have 
already  seen  that  he  was  in  the  hand  of  a  Higher 
Power  than  his  own.  The  will  of  God  overbore  his 
human  will,  and  hurled  him  forward  as  its  avenging 
bolt.  St.  Paul  went  up  to  Jerusalem  although  he 
knew  what  would  there  befall  him,  being  "  bound  in 
the  spirit :  "  it  was  a  similar  bondage  —  the  constraint 
of  a  divine  doom  —  that  bore  John  Brown  down  into 
Harper's  Ferry.  The  wisdom  of  God  was  in  the  human 
mistake,  making  the  momentary  defeat  an  everlasting 


JOHN  BROWN.  519 

triumph.  The  blow  struck  on  that  gloomy  October 
morning  carried  consternation  to  the  heart  of  the 
Slave  Power.  That  enthroned  wickedness  felt  the 
shock,  and,  sighing  throughout  all  its  frame,  gave  sign 
that  all  was  lost. 

John  Brown  was  anxious  for  a  public  trial.  Not 
that  he  wished  to  be  acquitted,  for  he  distinctly  said, 
"  I  shall  be  worth  more  to  be  hung  than  for  anything 
else."  He  had  three  reasons  for  desiring  such  a  trial : 
First,  that  the  impression  of  his  insanit}^,  which  had 
spread  widely,  might  be  disjiroved ;  secondly,  that  his 
humane  and  Christian  motives,  in  what  he  had  done, 
might  be  shown ;  and  thirdly,  that  his  martyrdom 
might  be  so  published  abroad  as  to  rouse  up  feelings 
of  indignation  against  slavery  throughout  the  world. 
All  this  he  did  in  his  own  simple  strength,  and  at  des- 
perate odds,  so  as  to  go  to  the  scaffold  at  last  in  the 
rejoicing  spirit  of  a  conqueror. 

1.  In  case  of  any  attempt  of  counsel  to  plead  his 
cause,  he  strictly  ordered  that  no  plea  of  insanity  must 
be  put  in.  Annoyed  by  rumors  which  were  going 
through  the  country,  he  said  at  his  trial,  "  I  am  per- 
fectly unconscious  of  insanity,  and  I  reject,  so  far  as 
I  am  capable,  any  attempt  to  interfere  in  my  behalf  on 
that  score."  No  one  can  read  the  report  of  the  in- 
quisition in  the  guard-house  and  not  admit  that  he 
knew  himself  perfectly.  Governor  Wise  went  from 
thijt  inquisition  to  Richmond  and  said  :  "  They  are 
themselves  mistaken  who  take  him  to  be  a  madman. 
.  .  .  He  is  a  man  of  clear  head,  of  courage,  fortitude, 
and  simple  ingenuousness.  He  is  cool,  collected,  and 
indomitable,  and  it  is  but  just  to  say  that  he  was 
humane  to  his  prisoners.  .  .  .  He  professes  to  be  a 
Christian,  and  openly  preaches  universal  emancipa- 


620  ADDRESSES. 

tion."  All,  Pilate!  you  could  find  no  fault  m  the 
man !  And  one  who  lacked  this  impulsive  nobleness 
of  the  Virginian,  the  prying  politician  Vallandigham, 
went  home  and  said  :  ''  Capt.  John  Brown  is  as  brave 
and  resolute  a  man  as  ever  headed  an  insurrection. 
.  .  .  He  is  the  farthest  possible  remove  from  the  ordi- 
nary ruffian,  fanatic,  or  madman.  It  was  one  of  the 
best  planned  and  best  executed  conspiracies  that  ever 
failed."     Thus  were  all  liis  adversaries  ashamed. 

2.  The  rumor  of  blood-thirstiness,  with  that  of  in- 
sanity, fell  to  the  ground.  Never  but  once  has  man 
spoken  more  lovingly  than  this  man  to  his  tormentors. 
"  How  do  you  justify  your  acts  ? "  asked  Senator 
Mason.  "I  think,  my  friend,  you  are  guilty  of  a 
great  wrong  against  God  and  humanity,  —  I  say  it 
without  wishing  to  be  offensive,  —  and  it  would  be  per- 
fectly right  for  any  one  to  interfere  with  you  so  far  as 
to  free  those  you  willfully  and  wickedly  hold  in  bond- 
age." Mason  replied  that  "  he  understood."  "  I  wish 
to  say,  furthermore,"  added  the  bleeding  prisoner, 
"  that  you  had  better  —  aU  you  people  of  the  South 
—  prepare  yourselves  for  a  settlement  of  this  question. 
It  must  come  up  for  settlement  sooner  than  you  are 
prepared  for  it.  .  .  .  You  may  dispose  of  me  very 
easily,  .  .  .  but  this  question  is  still  to  be  settled  — 
this  negro  question,  I  mean."  ^  The  sufferer  was  too 
faint  to  say  any  more.  But  he  had  triumphed.  No 
inquisitor  could  doubt  the  loftiness  or  sincerity  of  his 
Christian  spirit.  He  even  concerned  himself  for  the 
spiritual  weKare  of  his  enemies.  When  Governor  Wise 
told  him  to  prepare  for  eternity,  he  replied,  in  moving 
tones  :  "  Governor,  I  have,  from  all  appearances,  not 

1  Prophetic  words,  and  the  prophecy  so  speedily  and  how  awfully 
fulfilled! 


JOHN   BROWN.  521 

more  tlian  fifteen  or  twenty  years  the  start  of  you  in 
the  journey  to  that  eternity  of  which  you  kindly  warn 
me.  And  whether  my  tenure  here  shall  be  fifteen 
years,  or  fifteen  days,  or  fifteen  hours,  I  am  equally 
prepared  to  go.  There  is  an  eternity  behind  and  an 
eternity  before,  and  the  little  speck  in  the  centre, 
however  long,  is  but  comparatively  a  minute.  I  there- 
fore want  to  tell  you  to  be  prepared."  Brave  words 
these,  and  as  loving  as  bold ;  nor  did  they  fail  to  take 
captive  the  susceptible  governor.  He  knew,  and 
warmly  asserted  ever  after,  that  a  tender  Christian 
spirit  reigned  in  old  John  Brown. 

And  now  his  soul  is  at  rest.  His  captors,  too  much 
in  fear  to  spare  his  life,  have  yet  been  forced  to  own 
the  transcendent  quality  of  his  manhood.  Words  of 
cheer  and  offers  of  ministiy,  from  noble  men  and 
women,  come  pouring  in.  Europe  lifts  up  her  voice 
in  chorus  of  praise,  assuring  him  that  Lis  sacrifice  will 
indeed  thrill  the  heart  of  the  world. 

"  The  outer  John  Brown  they  will  torture  and  kill, 
And  tumble  it  into  the  grave  ; 
But  the  inner  John  Brown  may  trouble  them  still 
By  its  whispering's  round  witb  the  slave. 

"  Death  iiears  you,  John  Brown,  old  outer  John  Brown, 
And  marks  you  as  food  for  the  worm  : 
Nor  death  nor  the  worm  can  harm  inner  John  Brown ; 
So,  inner  John  Brown,  stand  firm." 

And  he  did  stand  firm,  —  the  one  serene  spirit  in  that 
crowded  court-room,  watching  the  course  of  his  trial 
wnth  a  masterl}^  skill,  yet  lifting  not  a  finger  to  turn  it 
aside  from  the  fatal  issue.  He  was  borne  back  to  his 
cell  after  the  verdict,  where  he  passed  the  time  writing 
words  of  Christian  comfort,  as  strength  permitted,  to 
his  family.    Added  to  the  letter  thus  penned  is  a  brief 


522  ADDRESSES. 

postscript  —  sublime  in  its  brevity  —  which  simply 
says  :  ''  Yesterday,  November  2,  I  was  sentenced  to  be 
hanged  on  December  2d  next.  Do  not  grieve  on  my 
account.  I  am  still  quite  cheerful.  God  bless  you  ! 
Yours  ever,  John  Brown."  Having  been  carried  into 
court  to  receive  this  sentence,  he  was  asked  what  he 
had  to  say,  when  he  rose  vnth  much  difficulty  and 
said :  "  Had  I  interfered  in  the  manner  which  I  ad- 
mit, and  which  I  admit  has  been  fairly  proved,  —  had 
I  so  interfered  in  behalf  of  the  rich,  the  powerful,  the 
intelligent,  the  so-called  great,  or  in  behalf  of  any 
of  their  friends,  either  father,  mother,  brother,  sister, 
wife,  or  children,  or  any  of  that  class,  and  suffered 
and  sacrificed  what  I  have  in  this  interference,  —  it 
would  have  been  all  right,  and  every  man  in  this  court 
would  have  deemed  it  an  act  worthy  of  reward  rather 
than  punishment.  This  court  acknowledges,  as  I  sup- 
pose, the  validity  of  the  law  of  God.  I  see  a  book 
kissed  here  which  I  suppose  to  be  the  Bible,  or  at  least 
the  New  Testament.  That  teaches  me  that  all  things 
'  whatsoever  I  would  that  men  should  do  unto  me  I 
should  do  even  so  to  them.'  It  teaches  me,  further, 
'  to  remember  them  that  are  in  bonds  as  bound  with 
them.'  I  endeavored  to  act  up  to  that  instruction.  I 
say,  I  am  je,t  too  young  to  understand  that  God  is  any 
respecter  of  persons.  I  believe  that  to  have  interfered 
as  I  have  done,  as  I  have  always  freely  admitted  I 
have  done,  in  behalf  of  His  despised  poor,  was  not 
wrong,  but  right.  Now,  if  it  is  deemed  necessary  that 
I  should  forfeit  my  life  for  the  furtherance  of  the  ends 
of  justice,  and  mingle  my  blood  further  with  the  blo:)d 
of  my  children,  and  with  the  blood  of  millions  in  this 
slave  country  whose  rights  are  disregarded  by  wicked, 
cruel,  and  unjust  enactments,  I  submit :  so  let  it  be 


JOHN  BROWN.  523 

done."  These  great  words,  spoken  in  calm  and  tender 
accents,  bowed  the  angry  mob  as  the  wind  bows  the 
trees  of  the  wood.  They  stood  awed,  and  gazing  in 
mute  wonder ;  and  in  that  deep  silence,  we  fancy  the 
old  man  heard  the  listening  angels  clap  their  hands. 
Mr.  Emerson  is  not  alone  in  pronouncing  this  "the 
most  eloquent  speech  of  the  century."  There  is  but 
one  that  will  bear  comparison  with  it  —  the  speech  of 
the  Martyr  President  at  Gettysburg.  But  the  speech 
of  Abraham  Lincoln  was  carefully  written  out  in  his 
study;  this  of  John  Brown  was  sjioken  under  the 
shock  of  a  sudden  surprise,  and  without  a  moment's 
preparation.  That  fell  from  a  strong  and  well  man 
on  the  eager  ears  of  listening  thousands ;  this  from  a 
man  too  feeble  to  stand  upright,  after  the  exhausting- 
worry  of  a  fortnight's  trial,  in  the  midst  of  coun- 
tenances that  glared  on  him  with  savage  wrath. 
Abraham  Lincoln  came  forth  from  the  executive 
mansion,  and  stood  on  a  great  battlefield  of  the  war, 
inspired  with  memories  of  a  world-renowned  victory ; 
John  Brown  was  brought  in  irons  from  a  felon's  cell, 
and  beheld,  in  vision,  only  the  forms  of  his  slain 
friends  and  the  shameful  gallows.  How  singular  that 
these  two  speeches,  at  which  the  world  will  never 
cease  to  wonder,  were  spoken  by  our  country's  two 
greatest  martyrs,  —  one  by  John  Brown,  whose  mar- 
tyrdom stands  at  the  opening,  the  other  by  Abraham 
Lincoln,  whose  martyrdom  stands  at  the  close,  of  the 
monstrous  pro-slavery  rebellion !  The  chord  of  sym- 
pathy which  joins  North  Elba  to  Springfield  is  perfect, 
nor  can  its  vibrations  cease  to  thrill  mankind  till  the 
love  of  liberty  in  their  hearts  expires.  Those  two 
graves  have  one  voice,  and  teach  one  lesson :  — 


524  ADDRESSES. 

"  Right  forever  of  the  seafFold,  wrong-  foi'ever  of  the  throne  ; 
But  that  scaffold  sways  the  future,  and,  behind  the  dim  unknown, 
Standeth  God  within  the  shadow,  keeping-  watch  above  His  own." 

The  interval  of  thirty  days  between  the  sentence 
and  its  execution  is  one  unbroken  triumph.  The 
right  man,  so  often  placed  at  disadvantage,  is  in  the 
right  place  at  last.  The  hour  had  come  for  John 
Brown  to  show  what  he  was.  Transfigured  on  the 
mount  of  suffering,  his  sacrificial  spirit  shone  out  with 
a  surpassing  lustre.  The  gold  shut  within  the  rocky 
matrix  flowed  forth  in  peerless  brightness,  now  that 
he  was  bruised  and  in  the  furnace.  Few  things  are 
beautiful  out  of  season,  but  everything  in  its  season, 
and  John  Brown's  season  had  come.  You  have  read 
the  legend  of  the  enchanted  harp.  For  ages  it  stood 
silent  on  the  mountain  top,  its  strings  black  with  the 
eating  rust,  while  tree  and  leaf  and  blossom  flourished 
around.  But  at  length  the  hurricane  was  let  loose. 
And  while  the  great  oaks  lay  prostrate,  and  flowers 
and  leaves  were  smitten  into  the  ground,  that  harp 
stood  unscathed  above  the  ruin,  and  gave  forth  strains 
of  music  that  charmed  and  stilled  the  warring  ele- 
ments. Thus  it  was  with  the  soul  of  old  John  Brown. 
No  one  in  whom  the  instincts  of  humanit}^  yet  lived 
could  look  on  him  during  that  month  of  waiting  and 
not  say,  with  Governor  Wise,  "  He  is  the  best  specimen 
of  a  man  I  ever  met."  If  there  had  been  anything 
rustic  or  overbearing  in  him  before,  it  all  now  disap- 
peared. The  tempest  howling  in  wrath  about  him 
put  his  great  nature  in  tune.  His  manners  grew  gen- 
tler than  any  knight's,  his  accents  tender  as  a  mother's 
by  her  sleeping  infant,  his  eye  calm  with  the  light  of 
suffering  love.  I  ought  not  to  mar  his  letters  by 
quoting  from  them.     Get  them,  and  read  them  for 


JOHN  BROWN.  525 

yourself.  You  will  find  tliem  full  of  such  passages  as 
this :  "  I  have  enjoyed  remarkable  cheerfulness  and 
composure  of  mind  ever  since  my  confinement ;  and 
it  is  a  great  comfort  to  feel  assured  that  I  am  per- 
mitted to  die  for  a  cause,  not  merely  to  pay  the  debt 
of  nature,  as  all  must.  ...  I  am  entirely  composed, 
and  my  sleep  in  particular  is  as  sweet  as  that  of  a 
healthy,  joyous,  little  infant.  I  pray  God  that  He  will 
grant  me  a  continuance  of  the  same  calm,  delightful 
dream  —  if  it  be  a  dream  —  until  I  come  to  know  of 
those  realities  'which  eyes  have  not  seen,  and  which 
ears  have  not  heard.'  I  have  scarce  realized  that  I 
am  in  prison,  or  in  irons  at  all."  And  what  could  be 
nobler  than  this,  in  his  last  letter  to  his  family ?  —  "I 
am  waiting  the  hour  of  my  public  murder  with  great 
composure  of  mind  and  cheerfulness,  feeling  the  strong- 
assurance  that  in  no  other  possible  way  could  I  be  used 
to  so  much  advantage  for  God  and  humanity,  and  that 
nothing  that  either  I  or  all  my  family  have  sacrificed 
or  suffered  will  be  lost."  But  once  more,  ye  who  have 
an  ear  for  the  gems  of  composition,  listen  to  this ;  "  I 
cannot  remember  a  night  so  dark  as  to  have  hindered 
the  coming  day,  nor  a  storm  so  furious  or  dreadful  as 
to  prevent  the  return  of  warm  sunshine  and  a  cloud- 
less sky."  Did  that  sentence  flow  from  the  pen  of 
Jeremy  Taylor  or  Laurence  Sterne  ?  Oh,  no !  it  is 
simply  the  postscript  to  a  familiar  letter,  written  in  a 
Virginia  prison  b}^  a  doomed  man  '^  who  knew  not  let- 
ters, having  never  learned."  The  assurance  that  God 
had  counted  him  worthy  to  suffer  was  his  liberal  edu- 
cation. This  consciousness  gave  all  his  spiritual  pow- 
ers an  instantaneous  maturity,  such  as  universities  and 
long  years  of  patient  study  cannot  afford. 

And  this  is  the  man  whom  they  led  forth  to  death 


526  ADDRESSES. 

on  that  clear  December  day.  The  heavens  greeted 
him  with  unwonted  splendor.  And  his  keepers  trem- 
bled, and  their  joints  were  loosed  through  fear,  as  they 
saw  him  give  the  kiss  to  the  poor  slave-mother's  child. 
And  so  he  led  the  way,  going  before  them  up  to  the 
place  of  sacrifice.  But  hold  !  what  is  that  ?  See  him 
raise  his  pinioned  arm,  and  reverently  lift  the  covering 
from  his  head  !  Ah,  it  is  a  vision  !  He  beholds  the 
long  procession  of  martyrs  of  all  ages  filing  past ;  and 
he  salutes  them,  and  wishes  not  to  be  "  kept  waiting," 
as  he  sees  them  halt  and  open  their  glittering  column 
to  receive  him  in !  And  so  he  bows  his  head,  and  the 
wave  of  death  —  wave  of  life  immortal  —  rolls  over 
him.  And  they  that  had  stood  afar  off  weeping,  came 
and  took  up  his  body,  and  bore  it  away  secretly  by 
night,  for  fear  of  the  scorners ;  and  they  laid  it  ten- 
derly to  rest  beside  the  ancestral  gravestone,  and 
carved  his  name  on  the  everlasting  granite,  and  de- 
parted. 

*'  And  the  stars  of  heaven  were  looking  kindly  down, 
And  John  Brown's  soul  was  marching  on." 

I  had  thought,  before  finishing  these  remarks,  to 
make  some  reply  to  those  who  condemned  the  act  of 
John  Brown.  But  after  all  that  has  happened,  I  do 
not  like  even  to  seem  to  look  at  him  from  that  point 
of  view.  To  do  so  is  to  confront  the  judgment  of 
mankind.  A  voice  as  the  voice  of  many  waters 
replies  to  the  charge  that  he  was  wrong.  We  have 
wiped  from  our  statute-books,  amid  the  acclamations 
of  our  people,  the  enactments  which  made  him  a  mar- 
tyr. What  further  need  has  he  of  vindication  ?  The 
pirate  craft  which  sunk  his  little  bark  has  itself  been 
blown  to  the  winds  by  our  good  ship  of  state,  which 
now  walks  the  sea  in  triumph  with  his  flag  at  mast- 


JOHN  BROWN.  527 

head.  Jolm  Brown  needs  not  oui-  defense  to-day,  but 
we  cannot  stand  without  his.  If  any  attempt  to  speak 
against  him,  the  universal  conscience  bids  them  be 
silent ;  the  very  ground  on  which  they  think  to  stand 
has  been  swept  away.  Who  am  I,  that  I  should  take 
up  weapons  in  his  defense  whose  only  foes  are  the 
enemies  of  man  ?  The  most  that  can  be  said  to-day 
is  what  Owen  Love  joy  said  on  the  floor  of  Congress 
while  revolvers  were  pointed  at  his  head :  "  In  regard 
to  John  Brown,  you  want  me  to  curse  him.  I  will  not 
curse  John  Brown.  You  want  me  to  pour  out  exe- 
crations on  the  head  of  old  Osawatomie.  Thousfh 
aU  the  slaveholding  Balaks  in  the  country  fill  their 
houses  with  silver  and  gold  and  jiroffer  it,  I  will  not 
curse  him.  I  honestly  condemn  what  he  did,  from 
the  standpoint  of  human  law :  but  I  believe  that  his 
purpose  was  a  good  one ;  that,  so  far  as  his  own  motives 
before  God  were  concerned,  they  were  honest  and  truth- 
ful ;  and  no  one  can  deny  that  he  stands  head  and 
shoulders  above  any  other  character  that  appeared  on 
the  stage  of  that  tragedy  from  beginning  to  end." 

But  let  us  take  the  ground  of  human  law  a  moment, 
and  see  what  follows.  The  statutes  which  moved  John 
Brown  to  go  down  to  Harper's  Ferry  have  been  ex- 
punged, while  those  which  judge  traitors  to  death 
yet  remain.  Where  were  Jefferson  Davis  to-day,  and 
all  the  officers  and  men  who  fought  under  him,  if  the 
chalice  commended  to  John  Brown's  lips  should  re- 
turn to  theirs  ?  Though  I  tliink  it  was  a  lighter  pun- 
ishment to  be  hanged  by  Governor  Wise  than  to  be 
pardoned  by  Andrew  Johnson.  Say  that  John  Brown 
was  "  justly  hung,"  and  the  South  should  have  been  a 
desert  before  now.  I  go  as  far  as  any  in  the  spirit  of 
forgiveness ;  as  far  as  it  is  safe  to  go  in  the  policy  of 


528  ADDRESSES. 

amnesty.  But  let  us  not  strain  at  a  gnat  while  swal- 
lowing a  camel.  Let  us  not  hurl  a  dead  law  at  one 
who  intended  no  wrong,  but  only  right,  while  holding 
back  the  sword  from  those  whom  sheer  justice,  whether 
human  or  divine,  forbids  to  live. 

There  is  no  name,  however  bright,  connected  with 
John  Brown's  by  a  friendly  link,  but  is  the  brighter 
for  that  connection.  John  A.  Andrew  of  Massachu- 
setts dared  to  say  that  "  John  Brown  was  right ;  "  and 
that  one  brave  step  was  what  made  him  our  peerless 
governor  throughout  the  war.  The  lips  which  once 
cursed  Governor  Andrew  for  that  word  are  blessing 
him  to-day.  Then  they  went  into  a  public  hall  in 
Boston,  and  broke  up  a  public  meeting,  shouting, 
"  Tell  John  Andrew  John  Brown 's  dead  ;  "  now  they 
are  asking  how  they  can  honor  a  governor  whose  offi- 
cial career  so  honors  not  only  his  own  State,  but  the 
nation  and  the  age.  That  which  bound  our  hearts  to 
Andrew  as  with  hooks  of  steel  was  his  sympathy  with 
everything  which  smote  the  monster  of  oppression. 
And  this  is  the  charmed  flower  in  his  memorial  gar- 
land which  can  never  fade  though  every  other  should 
perish  and  fall  away.  As  of  him,  so  of  others,  —  the 
dead  and  the  living,  the  lofty  and  the  lowly,  the 
conspicuous  and  the  obscure.  They  dared  to  honor 
at  least  the  motives,  if  not  the  act,  of  John  Brown. 
And  now  his  world-wide  renown  is  in  turn  an  orna- 
ment and  glory  to  them. 

But  if  John  Brown  sheds  such  lustre  on  those  who 
stood  forth  for  him,  what  of  those  who  insisted  that 
he  should  be  slain?  AVe  shall  see.  I  have  seen  a 
letter  from  the  wife  of  the  general  who  commanded 
the  Virginia  troops  at  John  Brown's  execution.  It  is 
a  letter  written  since  the  war,  and  begging  a  little 


JOHN  BROWN.  529 

charity  for  herself  and  her  half-starved  children.  She 
paints  in  vivid  colors  the  contrast  between  former 
grandeur  and  her  present  want.  It  was  her  husband, 
General  Taliaferro,  that  kept  the  martyr  waiting  with 
the  rope  about  his  neck  while  his  regiments  performed 
the  dumb  show  of  a  battle.  The  officer  whom  Mr. 
Buchanan  sent  to  represent  the  United  States  at  Har- 
per's Ferry  was  Colonel  Robert  E.  Lee.  I  but  speak 
his  name  ;  you  know  the  rest.  It  is  a  scroll  we  do  not 
care  to  examine,  flying  in  the  midst  of  heaven,  and 
written  all  over  with  mourning,  lamentation,  and  woe. 
The  lieutenant  who  led  the  marines  against  the  engine 
house  was  J.  E.  B.  Stuart,  afterwards  Lee's  favorite 
cavalry  officer,  and  slain  in  one  of  the  battles  near 
Richmond.  The  two  politicians  who  worried  the  old 
man  with  their  cross-questioning  while  his  every  breath 
was  a  low  groan,  were  Clement  L.  Vallandigham, 
whom  North  and  South  alike  spewed  out  of  their 
mouth  in  war-time ;  and  Senator  Mason,  the  accom- 
plice of  Slidell,  whose  name  now  flits  about  the  earth 
spurned  by  every  manly  foot. 

As  of  men,  so  of  places.  There  is  no  spot  of 
ground  closely  related  to  the  great  deed  of  John 
Brown  but  owes  its  fame  to  him.  For  his  sake,  his- 
tory will  celebrate  Harper's  Ferry,  the  battlefields  in 
Kansas,  and  the  remote  farm  at  North  Elba.  He 
rescues  those  places  from  obscurity,  and  makes  them 
memorable  for  all  coming  time.  He  does  for  them 
what  Shakspeare  does  for  Stratford-upon-Avon,  what 
Washington  does  for  Mt.  Vernon.  Not  for  their  own 
sake  wiU  future  generations  come  thronging  to  those 
localities,  but  that  they  may  pay  homage  to  his  spirit, 
and  "  take  from  him  increase  of  devotion  to  that  cause 
for  which  he  paid  the  last  fuU  measure  of  devotion." 


530  ADDRESSES. 

There  are  to-day  millions  of  people  all  over  the  world 
who  know  nothing  of  important  battles  fought  near 
Harper's  Ferry ;  but  they  know,  and  can  never  for- 
get, that  John  Brown  there  struck  for  humanity  and 
God.  Those  everlasting  hills  are  his  monument,  and 
will  be  more  and  more  cherished  as  that,  and  nothing 
more,  till  heavens  and  earth  pass  away.  As  long  as 
those  mountains  stand,  it  shall  be  their  proud  office 
to  speak  of  him.  And  the  far-off  plains  of  Kansas, 
joining  with  the  lofty  Adirondack  peaks,  shall  take 
up  the  voice.  And  so  all  together,  in  eternal  chorus, 
shall  proclaim :  — 

"  They  never  fail  who  die 
In  a  great  cause.     The  block  may  soak  their  gore ; 
Their  heads  may  sodden  in  the  sun ;  their  limbs 
Be  strung  to  city  gates  and  castle  walls, 
But  still  their  spirit  walks  abroad.     Though  years 
Elapse,  and  others  share  as  dark  a  doom, 
They  but  augment  the  deep  and  sweeping  thoughts 
Which  overpower  all  others,  and  conduct 
The  world  at  last  to  freedom." 

Soldiers  in  this  sacrificial  army,  men  and  women 
toiling  for  the  rights  of  human  nature,  bethink  you 
to-day  into  whose  labors  you  have  entered.  Sit  not 
idly  down  to  exult  over  the  victories  of  the  past. 
Other  battles  are  to  be  fought,  and  other  victims  must 
bleed,  before  the  full  triumph  can  come.  In  that 
vision  of  the  risen  martyrs,  who  halted  near  John 
Brown  while  he  stood  ready  to  be  offered,  the  past 
and  future  were  one.  He  saw  but  a  single  host; 
God's  whole  sacramental  army  —  stretching  away  to 
the  first  and  on  to  the  last  —  of  them  that  are  slain 
for  Him  and  His  word.  Who  are  they  —  the  anointed 
ones  in  coming  ages  —  on  whom  the  dying  martyr  saw 
his  mantle  fall  ?  The  Lord  knoweth  them,  and  will 
bring  them  forth  in  their  season,  as  one  great  crisis 


JOHN  BROWN.  531 

after  another  calls  for  the  sacrifice.  They  are  the  best 
beloved  among  His  children,  dearer  to  Him  than  the 
apple  of  His  eye  ;  and  therefore  are  they  chosen  out, 
that  He  may  put  this  special  honor  on  their  names. 
All  that  is  good  in  the  world  is  safe.  Love,  justice, 
and  truth  shall  still  prevail.  For  these  chosen  ones 
shall  come  forth  as  they  are  needed,  and  shall  fill  up 
what  is  beliind  of  holy  suffering.  Though  weak  in 
themselves,  and  slirinking  with  an  awful  dread  from 
such  testimony  as  John  Brown  gave,  their  heavenly 
Father  shall  make  them  able  to  drink  the  cup  which 
He  drank,  and  to  be  baptized  with  His  baptism. 


EULOGY  UPON   HENRY  WILSON.^ 

*'  Thy  gentleness  hath  made  me  great ! "  are  the 
words  which  David  spoke  to  God,  in  the  day  which 
saw  him  victorious  over  his  foes,  and  sitting  crowned 
as  the  king  of  Israel.  ''Thy  gentleness  hath  made 
me  great ! "  are  the  words  which  Henry  Wilson  may 
reverently  and  thankfully  utter,  as  he  bows  before 
the  white  throne  of  heaven,  and  yields  up  the  record 
of  his  remarkable  life.  Whatever  he  was  in  his  char- 
acter and  achievements,  he  was  in  a  singular  manner 
the  workmanship  of  God.  Name  and  lineage  did 
nothing  for  him  but  to  drag  him  down ;  nor  could  he 
begin  to  rise  till  he  had  cast  them  off.  Wealth  did 
not  help  him,  nor  social  standing,  nor  the  university, 
nor  polite  culture,  nor  the  gifts  of  genius,  —  if  we  ex- 
cept his  gift  for  eager  and  unremitting  toil.  God  said, 
"  I  will  take  this  child  of  obscurity  and  want,  and  will 
show  the  world  how  I  make  leaders  for  nations.  No 
flesh  shall  glory  in  my  presence.  Men  shall  see  that 
I  choose  the  things  which  are  not,  to  bring  to  naught 
things  that  are.  I  will  teach  those  who  boast  that 
Abraham  was  their  father,  that  I  can  of  the  stones 
raise  up  children  to  Abraham."  How  ungentle  his 
birth,  his  lot  in  boyhood  and  youth,  and  even  much  in 
his  later  manhood  I  —  all  unpropitious,  save  the  stoop- 
ing and  uplifting  gentleness  of  God  which  was  with 
him  from  first  to  last.     God  foresaw  what  was  coming 

1  Delivered  in  the  State  House,  Boston,  Mass.,  November,  1875. 


EULOGY   UPON  HENRY  WILSON.  533 

to  a  great  people  ;  and  in  the  loneliness  and  silence  of 
the  hill-country  of  New  England  He  gently  began  to 
make  ready  His  man  for  the  exigency.  Humbler  than 
the  employment  of  the  lad  who  kept  his  father's  sheep 
at  Bethlehem  was  that  of  the  future  Senator  and 
Vice-President.  The  lion  and  the  bear  which  he 
met  and  slew,  were  the  temptations  of  ignorance  and 
pinching  poverty.  Like  the  Bethlehemite's  son,  he 
was  of  a  ruddy  and  fair  countenance ;  nor  did  the 
cares  of  state  ever  take  that  bloom  from  his  genial 
face.  His  young  eyes  looked  on  the  hoary  grandeur 
of  Mount  Washington.  He  strolled  about  the  shores 
of  the  beautiful  Winnipesaukee,  —  "  God's  smile." 
He  plucked  the  wild  rose  of  the  pastures,  and  walked 
beneath  the  whispering  pines.  These  were  the  frame- 
work of  his  infancy  and  boyhood;  these  his  solemn 
teachers ;  these  the  influences  of  nature,  through  which 
the  still  small  voice  of  God  spoke  to  him. 

Very  likely  he  did  not  comprehend  the  voice,  or 
know  who  it  was  that  spoke,  in  those  tender  years.  The 
divine  dream  was  in  his  soul,  but  he  waited  for  the 
day  to  declare  it.  He  carried  it  with  him,  a  fire  shut 
up  in  his  bones,  when  he  went  from  his  comfortless 
home  to  be  the  drudge  of  a  farm.  Here  he  first  be- 
gan to  be  conscious  of  the  indwelling  energy,  feeling 
it  in  the  form  of  an  insatiable  thirst  for  knowledge. 
He  was  permitted  to  attend  the  district  school  on  days 
when  he  could  not  work  out  of  doors ;  and  one  of  his 
first  feats  was  to  say  his  grammar-book  through,  from 
end  to  end,  at  a  single  recitation.  He  took  long  walks 
after  nightfall,  that  he  might  read  a  borrowed  book  or 
newspaper  too  precious  for  him  to  take  home,  —  read- 
ing them  eagerly,  so  as  to  be  back  at  his  work  wlien 
the  morning  should  dawn.     A  kind  lady,  a  sister  of 


634  ADDRESSES. 

the  late  Levi  Woodbury,  saw  what  spirit  was  moving 
in  him,  and  gained  him  access  to  her  husband's  ample 
library.  Thus  he  was  enabled  to  read  about  a  thou- 
sand volumes  before  he  was  twenty-one  years  old  ;  read- 
ing them,  as  we  shall  see  by  computing  the  time,  at 
the  rate  of  two  a  week,  —  reading  by  the  flickering 
brands  on  the  hearth,  for  the  most  part,  while  his  ex- 
acting master  slept. 

Being  now  of  age,  and  still  obeying  the  impulse 
within  him,  though  he  knew  not  that  it  was  from  God, 
he  started  on  foot  for  a  certain  town  of  Natick,  where 
he  had  heard  there  was  a  chance  for  young  men,  — 
having  a  few  dollars  in  his  pocket,  and  the  rest  of  his 
worldly  goods  slung  over  his  shoulder  on  a  straight 
hickory  stick.  True  emblem  of  the  man  was  that 
stick,  —  honest,  self-reliant,  tough  and  strong,  as  those 
who  leaned  upon  him  always  found.  He  stopped  over 
but  one  night,  on  this  journey  of  a  hundred  miles,  and 
paid  for  his  lodging  in  advance.  Passing  through  our 
city  on  the  second  day,  he  was  not  too  weary  and  foot- 
sore to  go  for  a  moment  to  Bunker  Hill,  whose  story 
he  knew  by  heart ;  nor  to  find  his  way  under  the  dome 
of  our  State  House,  where  he  stood  trembling  with 
enthusiasm.  What  a  contrast  between  that  bashful 
youth,  inquiring  his  way  of  gruff  attendants,  and  the 
scenes  of  the  last  few  days  !  —  his  death  a  matter  of 
concern  in  foreign  courts ;  a  nation  gathering  in  sor- 
row around  his  bier ;  escorted  through  Baltimore,  ay, 
through  the  streets  of  Baltimore  ;  resting  in  Independ- 
ence Hall ;  Broadway  draped,  and  thronged  with  civic 
and  military  processions  ;  lying  in  state,  where  he  once 
was  bat  tolerated,  near  the  sculptured  forms  of  im- 
mortal patriots,  and  amid  the  battle-frayed  standards 
of  the  republic  and  the  grand  old  commonwealth. 


EULOGY   UPON  HENRY  WILSON.  535 

That  lie  thirsted  for  knowledge,  and  for  personal 
independence,  was  all  he  yet  knew  of  the  Divine  pur- 
pose concerning  him,  as  he  found  his  way  into  the 
little  hamlet  neaj'  midnight,  and  asked  for  work  and 
lodging.  A  few  months  of  eager  reading  and  toil, 
during  which  he  seemed  hardly  to  eat  or  sleep,  and  he 
is  back  among  the  hills  of  New  Hampshire,  teaching 
in  winter,  and  working  and  studying  all  the  time,  with 
his  face  set  toward  a  university  course.  But  suddenly 
his  little  earnings  are  lost  through  the  fault  of  one 
whom  he  had  trusted,  and  he  is  once  more  in  Natick 
at  his  simple  craft,  the  hope  of  a  formal  education  for- 
ever given  up.  Now  he  makes  the  acquaintance  of 
that  noble  woman,  Lydia  Maria  Child  ;  and  thus  he 
is  made  to  breathe  the  spirit  of  the  Garrison  move- 
ment, just  beginning  to  stir  the  strong  New  England 
heart.  The  di\dne  dream  in  his  soul  is  cleared  up  a 
little.  He  begins  to  see  the  path,  though  as  yet  he 
does  not  recognize  the  voice.  The  debates,  in  the 
society  of  young  mechanics,  turn  upon  national  ques- 
tions,—  finance,  manufactures,  the  rights  of  the  peo- 
ple, the  cause  of  the  oppressed.  His  opponents  nick- 
name him  the  "Natick  Cobbler"  in  an  uns^uarded 
hour ;  and  his  friends,  catching  up  the  word  as  a  pop- 
ular advertisement,  send  him  forth  during  the  Harri- 
son campaign  to  thrill  the  souls  of  the  masses,  and  to 
^^^n  for  himself  a  seat  in  the  General  Court.  Grave 
heads  shook,  and  said,  "  What  rustic  is  this  that  dares 
to  come  pushing  and  elbowing  his  way  among  the  pol- 
ished leaders  of  the  great  Whig  Party  ?  "  He  hardly 
knew  himself  who  he  was,  any  more  than  they ;  but 
God  knew,  and  he  yielded  to  the  Divine  impulse  which 
was  swaying  him.  He  is  placed  on  committees ;  and 
he  dares  to  offer  minority  reports  when  his  conscience 


536  ADDRESSES. 

fails  to  go  with  the  majority.  He  is  returned  again 
and  again  to  his  seat  by  his  loving  and  faithful  towns- 
men. He  goes  from  this  hall  to  the  Senate  Chamber 
hard  by,  where,  as  presiding  officer,  he  amazes  his 
critics  and  delights  his  friends  by  his  felicitous  wel- 
comes to  President  Fillmore,  and  the  famous  Hun- 
garian exile,  Kossuth.  Democrats  were  dear  to  him, 
if  their  votes  might  help  him  place  Charles  Sumner 
in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States.  His  zeal  for  the 
American  laborer  made  him  a  tariff  man,  —  a  zeal 
which  logically  made  him  willing  that  the  Free-soil 
party  should  join  its  forces  with  those  of  the  Native 
American,  so  called,  though  it  was  his  conscience  that 
made  him  a  Free-so iler  and  Republican.  Hence  the 
combined  power  which,  greatly  to  his  surprise,  lifted 
him  into  a  seat  on  the  same  floor  with  Sumner.  Never 
were  two  men  more  unlike,  in  all  but  the  high  resolve, 
which  inspired  them  both,  to  do  what  they  could  for 
the  overthrow  of  a  system  which  threatened  the  life 
of  the  nation,  and  offended  the  conscience  of  the 
world. 

To  the  history  of  the  years  which  followed,  al- 
most a  score  in  number,  I  must  barely  allude.  It  is 
a  part  of  the  history  of  the  nation,  —  the  grandest 
and  most  dreadful  chapter  in  its  annals,  in  which  it 
was  torn  by  dissensions  and  baptized  with  blood.  It 
piqued  the  culture  of  our  good  city  that  this  bluff 
mechanic  should  succeed  to  the  place  of  her  Webster, 
her  Everett,  her  Winthrop,  her  Choate.  But  God 
said  even  then  to  the  secret  heart  of  some,  "  Wait  a 
little,  and  I  will  show  you  what  I  will  do  with  this 
man  for  justice,  for  your  country,  for  your  proud  com- 
monwealth." The  terrible  debate  oj^ened  from  whose 
seething  depths  went  up  the  vapors  which  steadily 


EULOGY   UPON  HENRY  WILSON.  537 

gathered  into  the  war-cloud  on  high.  His  opponents 
found,  thoui^h  he  was  not  addicted  to  either  erramniar 
or  rhetoric,  that  his  mind  was  a  storehouse  of  pohtical 
knowledge,  which  he  could  readily  marshal  against 
them  with  crushing  effect.  While  his  colleague  went 
into  the  struggle  with  a  more  lordly  bearing,  and 
wielded  a  keener  sword,  he  watched  for  the  key  to  the 
position,  and  so  dealt  his  blows  as  to  cause  less  danger 
of  recoil.  His  simple  good-nature  made  him  well- 
nigh  invulnerable.  Wliat  was  the  use  in  trying  to 
quarrel  with  such  a  man  ?  He  seemed  to  be  utterly 
unconscious  of  insult,  while  volleys  of  a.buse,  and 
bloody  threats,  and  stinging  taunts  and  sarcasms  filled 
the  air.  When  Mr.  Sumner  was  stricken  down,  he  said 
the  attack  was  brutal  and  cowardly;  and  for  these 
words  he  was  challenged  to  mortal  combat.  But  he 
replied  that  his  conscience  would  not  let  him  fight 
a  duel,  though  he  believed  fully  in  the  right  of  self- 
defense  ;  and  there  the  matter  dropped.  His  steady 
nerves,  his  sinewy  frame,  his  herculean  strength,  had 
been  observed ;  and  his  foes,  feeling  sure  that  some- 
body besides  Henry  Wilson  would  be  hurt  if  they 
provoked  him  too  far,  concluded  to  let  him  alone. 

At  length  the  gathering  cloud  burst.  It  could  not 
be  averted ;  the  storm  must  come.  God  foreknew 
this,  as  we  did  not ;  and  the  men  whom  His  gentleness 
had  been  lifting  up  were  ready,  each  for  his  solemn 
part.  To  Henry  Wilson  fell  the  chairmanship  of 
military  affairs  ;  and  the  prodigious  capacity  for  work 
which  he  showed  in  that  place  is  known  to  all  who 
saw  hi]n  there.  What  president  or  cabinet  officer, 
what  general  in  the  field,  what  governor,  or  regiment, 
or  patient  in  the  hospital,  or  soldier's  widow,  ever  liad 
occasion  to  complain  of  him  ?     The  general-in-chief  at 


538  ADDRESSES. 

the  opening  of  the  war  said  that  his  dally  task  was 
equal  to  the  strength  of  ten  men.  Thus  he  toiled,  till 
the  forces  of  the  rebellion  were  spent.  And  in  the 
clear  dawn  of  peace,  during  the  weary  efforts  at  re- 
construction which  were  finally  successful,  the  prob- 
lem of  his  life  was  solved.  We  all  saw  for  what  God 
had  made  and  endowed  him  In  the  light  of  the  terrible 
exigency  which  had  been  his  grand  opportunity. 

And  yet  the  Divine  apocalypse  was  still  to  come  to 
him.  That  mystery  of  the  energy  which  had  burned 
and  flamed  within  him,  was  to  be  solved  in  the  pres- 
ence of  death.  God  quenched  the  light  In  his  simple 
home,  and  laid  his  only  hope  of  posterity  in  the  dust. 
He  bowed  his  head,  and  was  silent,  and  listened.  And 
in  that  silence  he  heard  the  voice  which  had  spoken 
to  him  only  In  confused  whispers  before.  He  knew 
whence  it  came.  It  was  the  voice  of  God.  His  soul 
melted  before  that  open  vision  ;  and,  lifting  his  dimmed 
eyes  to  the  tender  face,  he  said,  "Abba,  Father." 
Thenceforth  he  knew  who  it  was  that  had  raised  him 
up,  and  disciplined  him  with  hardship,  and  used  him 
for  the  great  objects  of  patriotism  and  philanthropy. 
He  went  into  the  house  of  that  God,  and  there  acknowl- 
edged Him  as  his  God,  and  paid  his  vows  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  people.  From  that  day  forward,  as  was 
clear  to  his  nearest  friends,  he  was  another  man. 
The  surges  of  ambition  and  of  mighty  desires  grew 
calm  within  him.  He  walked  with  God.  He  had 
found  the  interpretation  of  his  dream. 

Now  he  would  write  his  book.  Now  he  would  re- 
new old  friendships.  Now  he  would  pour  balm  Into 
wounds  which  had  been  given  In  the  heat  of  debate. 
Now  he  would  visit  the  South,  and  show  her  Impulsive 
people  that  he  had  borne  them  no  malice,  while  de- 


EULOGY    UPON  HENRY  WILSON.  539 

nouncing  their  doctrines,  and  striving  to  crush  their 
armies.  Now  he  woukl  be  the  counsellor  of  his  polit- 
ical party,  a  modest  Nestor  among  our  statesmen,  an 
adviser  to  those  just  entering  public  life,  a  friend  of 
reformers  and  of  all  good  reforms.  But  his  calm  sun 
hasted  to  its  going  down.  Hardly  had  the  secret  of 
the  life-long  guardianship  been  revealed  to  him,  when 
God  whispered  to  him  another  secret ;  namely,  that  he 
had  finished  his  work.  "  No  more,  my  child  ;  it  is  time 
to  take  rest,"  said  God  ;  and  the  silver  cord  was  loosed, 
the  golden  bowl  was  broken,  the  pitcher  was  broken 
at  the  fountain,  the  wheel  was  broken  at  the  cistern. 

By  a  providence  much  regretted  among  his  friends, 
the  circumstances  of  his  death  were  singularly  like 
those  of  his  birth.  God  took  him  out  of  the  hands 
of  his  near  friends  and  went  almost  alone  with  him 
into  the  eapitol  of  the  nation,  there  spreading  for  him 
his  dying-couch,  beneath  that  lofty  dome,  on  the  field 
where  his  hardest  battles  had  been  fought,  where 
his  mightiest  triumphs  had  been  won.  "  Fear  not," 
said  the  now  well-known  voice,  as  he  laid  him  down. 
"Fear  not:  my  gentleness,  which  hath  made  thee 
great,  is  still  round  about  thee ;  my  rod  and  my  staff 
they  shall  comfort  thee."  And  so  they  went,  both  of 
them  together,  into  the  deepening  valley.  "  You  will 
ride  out  to-day,  Mr.  Vice-President,"  said  his  attend- 
ant, just  as  his  last  earthly  dawn  was  fading  into  the 
everlasting  morning.  He  did  ride  out,  but  not  in  any 
material  vehicle.  The  chariot  of  God  was  in  waiting 
for  him.  He  rode  out  of  death  into  life,  out  of  shad- 
ows into  eternal  sunlight,  out  of  corruption  into  in- 
corruption. 

Rulers  and  public  servants,  sitting  as  you  nov/  do 
in  the  presence  of   these  honored  remains,  j)ut  far 


540  ADDRESSES. 

from  you  the  thought  that  republics  are  ungrateful. 
The  thanks  may  be  late  in  coming,  but  they  are  sure 
to  him  who  deserves  them.  We  cannot  always  see 
that  you  are  doing  right,  though  such  be  the  fact ;  for 
your  action  may  come  to  us  distorted  and  colored  by 
an  unfriendly  medium.  Some  of  you,  and  many  oth- 
ers not  here,  owe  much  to  the  noble  candor  of  Henry 
Wilson  in  this  respect.  We  always  thought  better  of 
Congress  after  listening  a  quiet  hour  to  him.  He 
was  indignant  at  the  charge  of  wholesale  corruption 
in  that  body.  He  insisted  that  the  honesty  of  no 
class  of  men  in  the  country  could  bear  so  searching  a 
scrutiny  as  theirs.  His  own  good  name  suffered  some- 
what at  times ;  for  he  was  a  practical  statesman,  and 
therefore  could  not  always  bring  his  measures  up  to 
the  level  of  our  ideas.  But  now  we  see  that  he  was 
right ;  that  he  sought  to  do  his  best ;  that  he  did  all 
which  the  conditions  under  which  he  was  forced  to 
act  would  permit  him  to  do.  And  hence  we  are  con- 
tent. Nay,  we  are  more  than  content.  We  come  out 
to  greet  him  with  our  welcomes,  and  to  embalm  his 
memory  in  the  nation's  heart.  The  republic  mourns 
him,  Massachusetts  sorrows  over  him;  but  our  grief 
is  mild,  compared  with  that  of  his  own  townsmen. 
This  great  honor  is  his,  that  the  atmosphere  of  love 
grows  more  dense  about  him  the  nearer  he  gets  to  his 
home.  In  Natick  there  will  be  but  few  dry  eyes  or 
open  shops  on  the  morrow.  The  villagers  will  throng 
to  his  modest  burial-place,  the  strong  and  the  feeble, 
old  men  and  maidens,  and  matrons  and  youths  ;  and 
there  they  will  weep  for  him,  a  tomb  more  precious 
than  marble  or  bronze.  He  was  their  brother,  their 
father,  their  familiar  neighbor,  their  equal  and  con- 
stant friend. 


EULOGY   UPON  HENRY  WILSON.  541 

Ye  sons  of  toil,  who  have  followed  me  along  the 
pathway  of  this  wondrous  life,  let  not  its  lesson  be 
lost  on  you.  Let  it  cheer  you  in  your  despondency, 
and  admonish  you  in  your  wayward  moods.  That  les- 
son is,  that  character  is  success ;  that  persevering  toil 
is  victory ;  that  fidelity  to  the  highest  convictions  of 
the  sou]  is  honor  and  renown.  This  man's  story  is 
our  argument  for  patience,  for  self-denial,  for  temper- 
ance, for  simple  truth,  for  love  to  God  and  love  to 
man.  God  has  many  spheres  or  planes  of  duty  for 
His  children ;  but,  all  alike,  those  that  honor  Him  He 
will  honor.  Despise  not  the  opportunity  which  He 
puts  into  your  hand  to-day  ;  for  small  though  it  be, 
seeming  no  more  than  a  thread  of  gossamer  perhaps, 
it  shall  grow  to  a  cable  in  your  grasp,  and  shall  draw 
untold  advantages  to  you.  The  serious  question  in 
our  modern  life,  with  its  luxury  and  temptations  to 
ease,  is  how  to  train  our  boys  up  to  that  sturdy  man- 
hood which  shall  make  them  the  pillars  of  the  nation. 
Necessity  is  the  mother  of  a  great  many  things  besides 
invention.  She  is  the  mother  of  presidents,  of  states- 
men, of  profound  thinkers,  of  scholars  and  poets ; 
and  if  we  cannot  make  duty  a  substitute  for  necessity, 
where  that  has  been  taken  away  by  an  easy  lot  in  life, 
the  future  of  our  country  is  indeed  dark. 

Thoughtful  patriots,  looking  with  concern  on  the 
iinlifted  veil  of  the  future,  let  your  remembrance  of 
what  God  did  through  Henry  Wilson  quiet  your 
forebodings.  The  same  gentleness  which  raised  him 
up,  and  made  him  great  for  the  exigencies  of  the 
nation  in  his  day,  can  raise  up  others  also.  Did  he 
seem  to  you  to  stand,  like  a  mighty  shield,  between 
the  highest  office  in  the  land  and  a  certain  fear  which 
had  begim  to  oppress  the  air  ?     The  same  God  who 


542  ADDRESSES. 

has  removed  him  can  put  something  stronger  in  his 
place  ;  or  else,  possibly,  God  means  to  show  us  that 
the  fear  is  groundless.  Yes,  we  will  trust  our  God, 
who  has  done  marvelous  things  for  us,  never  yet  fail- 
ing to  give  us  the  man  for  whom  the  crisis  called. 
Lincoln,  and  Seward,  and  Stanton,  and  Chase,  and 
Andrew,  and  Sumner,  and  Wilson,  —  these,  and  a 
great  multitude  of  others,  both  the  lofty  and  the  lowly, 
in  council-chamber  and  on  the  field  of  blood,  He  has 
given.  What  an  august  company  it  is !  I  see  their 
transfigured  forms.  Their  presence  makes  this  air 
vital.  They  fill  the  room.  Their  benign  faces  bend 
over  us.  We  feel  their  breath  on  our  hot  cheeks; 
and  their  calm  words  are  almost  audible  to  us  in  the 
solemn  hush  of  our  grief,  while  they  point  us  upward 
and  say,  ''  The  eternal  God  is  your  refuge,  and  under- 
neath are  the  everlasting  arms." 

"  O  sentinels !  whose  tread  we  heard 
Through  long  hours  when  we  could  not  see, 
Pause  now ;  exchange  with  cheer  the  word, 
The  unchanging  watchword  —  Liberty ! 

* '  Look  backward,  how  much  has  been  won ! 
Look  round,  how  much  is  5  et  to  win ! 
The  watches  of  the  night  are  done  ; 
The  watches  of  the  day  begin. 

*'  O  God,  whose  mighty  patience  holds 
The  day  and  night  alike  in  view, 
Thy  will  our  dearest  hopes  enfolds  ; 
Lord,  keep  us  steadfast,  patient,  true!  " 


}-  .f^  ^'.>^ 


>\v 


"f^-ii 


Theological  Setnmary-Speer  Librar; 


1    1012  01026  3517 


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